Albus Potter and the Chaos Contagion
by NoahPhantom
Summary: Magical science, like Muggle technology, has progressed so rapidly that the world is destabilizing. Theorized spells of unknown power are now possible. Dabbling with this kind of power changes a person: the Chaos Contagion will take your mind, and nothing can get it back. Book 6/7. Sequel to "Albus Potter and the Hourglass Empire." ENTIRE SERIES TO CONCLUDE BY THE END OF THIS YEAR!
1. The Double Agents

_**Well, hello there! You've made it to Book 6 of the series!**_

**IF YOU HAVEN'T READ THE FIRST FIVE BOOKS, PLEASE DO THAT BEFORE READING THIS ONE! IT IS **_**COMPLETELY**_** NECESSARY!**

_**There isn't much to say at this point, so let's just get right into it, shall we? :)**_

* * *

ALBUS POTTER AND THE CHAOS CONTAGION

CONTENTS

O

CHAPTER ONE

The Double Agents

O

CHAPTER TWO

The Wilcox House

O

CHAPTER THREE

Seven Schools in Thirteen Days

O

CHAPTER FOUR

The Blood Bandits

O

CHAPTER FIVE

The Next Level

O

CHAPTER SIX

Master of All the Earth

O

CHAPTER SEVEN

Secrets and Lies

O

CHAPTER EIGHT

The First to Fall

O

CHAPTER NINE

The Shadow's Engine

O

CHAPTER TEN

Through the Spying-Glass

O

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Calm before the Storm

O

CHAPTER TWELVE

The Brooch

O

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

The Hut-on-the-Rock

O

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

The Well-Organized Mind

O

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Light and Darkness

O

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Entangled

O

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

The Monster

O

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Luck of the Drop

O

CHAPTER NINETEEN

The Devoctrices

O

CHAPTER TWENTY

Stunning Developments

O

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

The Conspirator

O

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

The Mastermind

O

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

The Chaos Contagion

O

CHAPTER ONE

THE DOUBLE AGENTS

O

All eyes from the circular table were upon her. No one spoke or moved. The entire Sandblood cause, she knew, hinged upon what she said today, and what she did in the next few days.

Harry Potter and his family had decimated their ranks and devastated their best-laid plans. The time had come to formulate their biggest counterattack yet. They could lay waste to cities and overthrow governments when the time came. But if they were to survive, the Potters had to die, and they had to die quickly.

"We have suffered harsh losses in recent times," said Marsilia Scadjair carefully. "This must be addressed, no matter how badly we may not want to."

She looked around. Sensing no dissent, she carried on.

"Palmer Viller's demise after the events in the Hourglass Empire was only the beginning," said Scadjair. "As your new commander, I know this perhaps more than any of you. They will inevitably come for me next. They will try to dismantle us bit by bit, as they have done with our last two leaders. Maskorn Malseth's death was a stroke of luck on the part of the British Ministry of Magic, but it gave the bastards momentum on which they have now capitalized. We are broken in their eyes; they think that we are weakened by these losses. But we are _strengthened_. Like the least successful members of a species die out, our numbers have been decreased only by the deaths of those too fragile to survive in our ranks. You remain here because you are smarter and better than the ones who got themselves killed. Now we are a league of survivors, and we will continue to survive. Not only that, but we will cause their extinction."

Scadjair looked about the room, and her lip curled up. "I sense some skepticism," she said. "Some doubt amongst you. But I think I can cast that doubt away… with the newest intelligence report."

Mella Ligmia, Scadjair's second-in-command, handed her a thin folder. Scadjair took a piece of paper out of the folder, and laid it on the table in front of her.

"The Ministry is unaware of this," said Scadjair. "But our intelligence reports that a secret weapon is being developed by an unknown party… for use in eliminating all non-magical people from the world."

Scadjair was expecting nervous murmurs around the room, but instead, her audience was struck dumb by the news.

"You may be wondering why I consider this to be good news," said Scadjair. "The answer is that this little project can be adjusted to our advantage. You see, this device is powered by _blood._ By filling this machine with the blood of Muggles, they would send out an energy wave around the entire globe which would kill all Muggles—and Squibs."

The Sandbloods shuffled angrily in their seats.

"We knew this day would come," said Scadjair. "Just not so soon. This is precisely why we have to wipe out the wizards, before they do it to _us._ But there is a way that we can use this device against them. We don't yet know who is behind the creation of this machine, but we know _where_ the machine is being built. All we must do is slip the Marionette's Medicine to just one of the workers building the machine, and he can replace the Muggle blood in the machine with magical blood… and when the machine is detonated, every wizard on the planet will be killed."

"I think you've actually got things a bit backwards, there," said an unfamiliar voice from just down the hall.

A gray-haired stranger with sharp features strolled her way into the room casually. She was holding a wand—a _wizard,_ in their last remaining base out of her own free will? How had she gotten in, and gotten past all of the defenses?

The wizard puppets in the Sandblood base all raised their wands to face the woman, who smirked and tilted her head.

"What are this creature doing here?" spat Scadjair. This was all she needed right now—a witch to just walk right into the conference room of the headquarters while she was attempting to rally her troops and gain their confidence.

"I'm adding a little footnote to your speech," she responded. "May I? Don't worry. I'm here to help. I am in the employ of the Man in the Shadows."

Scadjair snorted. "Prove it."

The wizard puppets all around the room lowered their wands.

Scadjair looked around nervously at them, before remembering that their puppets on the surface were controlled by the Man in the Shadows. If they'd lowered their wands, it meant that the Man in the Shadows recognized the woman before them.

"My name is Duopold," said the woman, leaning against the wall and picking under her fingernails. "I am in the trusted employ of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and have been for quite some time. But for longer, I have labored for the Man in the Shadows. I speak for him now."

"Then speak his plans to us," said Scadjair, sitting down. She folded her fingers together and resting her chin on them; she couldn't wait to see how this would turn out. The Man in the Shadows was a wizard: this much was quite clear to them. They knew he wanted to rule the world, but Scadjair failed to see how the Man in the Shadows would want to destroy all wizardkind with this machine—he would die, too. But if he wanted the _Sandbloods_ dead, he could have turned his wizard puppets on them at any time, and the Sandbloods would have suffered severe losses even if they weren't completely wiped out. So what was his plan?

"The Man in the Shadows has been biding his time for decades," said Duopold. "He has been waiting in the shadows, studying the ultimate forms of power, and he has finally had a breakthrough. We've discovered the way to revolutionize murder and genocide. And we call it the Shadow's Engine. Yes, that machine you were talking about… Your intelligence reports were not the most intelligent. You were spying on your own allies, though admittedly we've been keeping it quite the secret, so we're not surprised you didn't know whose it was. We'll have to seal that little crack in our defenses… we can't have anyone else figuring out what we are now capable of."

She began pacing around the room, a wrinkly little smirk on her aged face. "But we were going to tell you anyway, if you hadn't found out," she cooed. "We need your help. We are both after the same exact thing now—world domination and the deaths of almost every witch and wizard on the planet—and the best way for us to win is by combining our forces and working together. See, you were wrong—we aren't creating that machine to kill Muggles as you suspected. We're not powering it with Muggle blood to kill Muggles; your spies assumed incorrectly. We've been gathering wizard blood for months already. We intend to kill every wizard on the planet except for ourselves.

"We have a bunker," she continued. "The Hourglass Empire. Its nature makes it separate from our world, and so it won't be affected by our machine. We will eliminate all wizards up here, while the Man in the Shadows and those in his most trusted employ wait out the storm below, and then we will come back to the surface while others bring our machine down; they will then do away with every wizard in the Hourglass Empire. The extinction event will come by the end of this year, if we can stay on schedule."

Scadjair looked around the room; all eyes were on Duopold. She hated granting the spotlight to someone else, as she was already having trouble asserting her authority among a group that had lost two of its most valued leaders. But she couldn't help admitting to herself that what Duopold was saying sounded… well, perfect… if they could also be assured that it was entirely true.

"You were correct in your analysis of the machine," said Duopold, "but incorrect in our intentions for using it. Yes, putting Muggle blood in the machine would kill all Muggles and Squibs. But no, that wasn't our plan. Our plan was to use wizard blood, and kill all wizards, apart from ourselves… then the Man in the Shadows, being the leader of the only magical people left on the planet, has a clear path to ruling the world, and you get what you want: the essential extinction of wizards. And of course, the Man in the Shadows will remember your loyalty when he reigns supreme, and you will have anything you ask for. But I digress; you know this already. This was part of your agreement in teaming up with the Man in the Shadows in the first place."

"Then tell us something we don't know," mused Scadjair. "You must be here for more than just to tell us that… this alone wouldn't have mandated a visit."

"You are correct," said Duopold. "There is indeed more for me to say. I'm visiting you as a courtesy, because what we're asking is not easy, but it's what needs to be done in order for the plan to succeed."

"Then spit it out."

"I will," said Duopold. "There are certain individuals who still need to be… taken out of the picture. People who have dabbled too far in the ignoble arts… We took care of the large part of the threat a year ago, but that will make the rest all the more difficult to catch when they realize we're on their scent. But they aren't looking out for the _Sandbloods_—why would they? That precious wizarding ego on which you have capitalized so many times before is all the more pronounced in the people who believe they have harnessed the full capacity of magic. We need your organization to continue killing wizards, but you must focus your attacks on the targets we indicate. You will murder for hire, under the continued guise of anarchy. And thusly you will create a background of chaos into which the Man in the Shadows may blend. We will give you a few names of targets to eliminate, and the more you do for us, the more we will do for you. To continue using our precious resources, you need to be willing to pay the rent. This is what we require. Have you any problems with this proposed partnership?"

"And you can guarantee," said Scadjair, "that you will do your utmost to provide protection for our numbers from those same individuals? They will inevitably come after us if they know we're after their kind."

"We can guarantee the survival of the Sandbloods," said Duopold, "and we will use our spies in the Ministry and beyond to do our best to ensure that you are neither killed nor caught, not by the law nor the prey."

Scadjair narrowed her eyes. They'd "do their best," they say… She still didn't fully trust this man, whoever he was, but she knew that this was a dangerous game in which nobody could ever be fully trusted. After all, _they_ were planning on killing _him_ once their plans were completed, so it was only natural to assume that he was going to do the same. They would have to play along, for now.

"It is a deal," said Scadjair, looking to her left and right at Tawder Brune and Mella Ligmia, who both nodded. "We will take what you have offered to us."

"Good," said Duopold, with a gray toothy smile. "Then your first target—"

"As long as this goes smoother than your idiotic handling of the Dismiusa incident," said Scadjair, unfolding her fingers and folding her arms. "Can you assure us that this won't end like the last plan the Man in the Shadows employed… and how can you assure us of that?"

"The idiot Potter boy stumbled into our carefully organized plans," said Duopold, grinding her teeth together. "That will not occur again. We are making sure of it. The Potters must die first."

"That is something we definitely agree upon," said Scadjair.

"But at the same time, they cannot die immediately," added Duopold. "I will explain later. However, all that you need know for the answer to your question is that the disastrous end to our previous plans was due to a circumstance we could never have predicted. After I awakened Dismiusa and imprisoned her under the castle, I used the Marionette's Medicine to subdue her and keep her there under my command and control. But the Potter boy's clumsy mental magic and grievous mental trauma absorbed some of the mental signals I was sending to Dismiusa. He developed a mental connection with her somehow—we believe it is likely that the reason he was attuned to Dismiusa's mind was because he had his _own_ little experience with the Marionette's Medicine when he laid waste to your first headquarters. When Malseth was killed while under the potion, the wound it left in his mind was prone to picking up on signals from the Marionette's Medicine. So… I suppose that makes it _your_ fault."

Scadjair glared at Duopold, the corner of her lip twitching.

"But who's throwing blame around?" simpered Duopold. "Certainly not us. But listen to me. Three years ago, when I dug up the old bitch, I didn't expect a gigantic cloud of dust to fly into the air and nearly give me away. I didn't expect the Headmaster and his dog Valon to come sniffing around chasing a fairy tale and nearly ruin us. I didn't expect the Potter boy to intercept my Marionette's Medicine signals and I didn't expect the mental burden following his interference to be so much that it sent me to St. Mungo's, leaving Dismiusa unchecked in the castle catacombs. And I most certainly did not expect the stupid Potter boy to unleash Dismiusa from the barrier I assumed was unbreakable. I will admit it: A _lot_ of inanity occurred that not even the Man in the Shadows predicted. But now, this time, with this plan, we have everything under control. Everything is planned out. We have the situation almost entirely in the palm of our hand… All we need is your help to complete it. If you take out the threats when we ask you to do so, nobody will come bungling into our affairs this time, and there will be nobody capable of stopping us."

"You mean, to kill the Potters so that they can no longer fuck with our plans?" asked Brune, working his jaw back and forth impatiently.

"Not just the Potters," said Duopold. "I assume your intelligence recalls all the incidents at Hogwarts with the little prankster known as IMW?"

"Not so little of a prankster, though, was he," scoffed Ligmia.

"Our guess is that this 'IMW' was none other than Hogwarts Transfiguration teacher Dalton Desulgon," said Duopold. "But it's much too dangerous to go after him directly, especially since he could be receiving aid from the Headmaster and Potions master. We think this may be the case, as he is consistently able to avoid detection and capture in the castle, and because he is using advanced potions that only a real Potions master could make—most likely Zayn Valon, Potions professor at the school."

"Then what do we do about him?"

"The Man in the Shadows has instructed us to bide our time on this one," said Duopold. "In fact… on most people. You will continue to kill—kill at least ten of your own targets before gunning down one of ours. Reduce suspicion in any way possible. And we in return will provide further resources and as much immunity from the law as we can manage. Soon the time will come for a massive strike against all who oppose us. You are to prepare for that as well."

"Our first target?" asked Scadjair, drumming her fingers on the table.

"Killian Aubrey," said Duopold. "He's stumbled on a secret we cannot allow him to share. This one comes first, before anything else. Top priority. As soon as possible. Understand?"

"Yes, we understand," said Scadjair. "Killing Aubrey will be all too simple. Don't worry about that."

"And we are understood by each other elsewhere as well?"

"You have yourselves a deal," said Scadjair. "We will not renege on our end; you'd best not with yours."

"You needn't worry about that," said Duopold, smirking. "You do what concerns you at this time, and we will play our part as well. You needn't be concerned about the promise—we are both getting exactly what we want out of this deal. I will oversee things at Hogwarts; Wilcox, Valon, and Desulgon are all potential threats, but as long as I keep them in check, we will have nothing to worry about from them. I remain innocuous as a simple Flying instructor at Hogwarts; I've flown under their radar for many years now, and I plan to keep it that way. I suggest you do the same apart from your job. Eventually we will be able to slaughter all wizards at once and we will no longer need to target individuals… preferably, we should even be able to do it by the end of this year. Therefore, we need only take down those people who present an _immediate_ threat to our success. Right now, that is Killian Aubrey."

"Then he will die," said Scadjair. "And _you_ needn't worry about _that._"

"Then it sounds as though we _are_ understood," said Duopold. "Thank you, Marsilia. I will take my leave now. If you need to contact me, do so by owl at any time—I am in charge of incoming and outgoing mail at Hogwarts, so no one is checking mine."

She turned and left the conference room. The wizard puppets all sat back down, and Scadjair eyed them carefully, knowing that they were listening closely and mentally reporting to the Man in the Shadows.

"So," she said. "We'll do as the Duopold woman says. We'll need a group of volunteers to hunt down Aubrey. He's hot-headed and arrogant; it won't be difficult."

Several Sandbloods raised their hands.

"Good," said Scadjair, leaning back against her chair. "Thank you to those volunteers. Do what you will. And this meeting is adjourned. We will meet again when Aubrey is deceased."

"What about Slade?" asked Ligmia quietly as the others began to leave.

"Duopold said nothing about Slade," said Scadjair. "So I assume his mission continues as planned."

"This is his riskiest mission yet," whispered Brune. "If he's caught, we lose our only connection to the Ministry's most trusted officials—the only one we have telling us what's going on at the top of the ladder."

"We knew that when we told him what had to be done," said Scadjair.

"And now we have a trusted lieutenant of the Man in the Shadows telling us to lay low," said Ligmia.

"He's been listening in on all of our meetings," said Scadjair, gesturing to the wizard puppets. "So he knows full well what we're about to do. I'd say, given the lack of direction on his part, that he supports our next move. He just doesn't want to admit that we came up with the idea before him. The new poison has been successfully tested?"

"And it paralyzes the lungs first," said Brune, grinning toothily. "So they can't call for help or say any spells out loud."

"Then we sit back and wait," said Scadjair, smirking. "It is the hottest Adelina Nelson Day on record, after all."

O

"Harry!" said Stenet, beckoning in his favorite Auror. "Good to see you again! What's on your mind today?"

"Treason," said Harry immediately.

"Cheerful topic," sighed Stenet sardonically. "I always love me a good conversation about treason, especially when I'm enjoying my daily kick in the balls."

"This is serious, Geri," said Harry dolefully. "I'm… I'm honestly worried."

"Wait, you are referring to someone _else_ committing treason, and not yourself thinking of committing treason, yes?"

"Yes," said Harry, finally cracking a smile. "But it's still something I want to take very seriously. I get the feeling that something bad is about to happen."

"What makes you say that?" asked Stenet, his brow lowering.

"People are quieter lately," said Harry. "There's less social activity in the office. There's more tension, like people are _expecting_ something bad to happen soon. Which is even worse, considering that this would imply there are people who know about something bad that's coming, and they aren't telling us—"

"Harry," said Stenet, "you're a nervous wreck."

"Well, of course I am!" said Harry defensively. "I mean—this is exactly what happened during the Dark Revival—right—right before—"

He choked on his words, and Stenet stood up, all traces of humor leaving, with concern flooding into his features in its place.

"I don't want to die yet," said Harry. "I've fully accepted that it's going to happen at some point, but there's just too much to _do_ for me to die right now! Not to mention that my family and friends need protection."

"Harry."

Harry looked up.

Stenet cleared his throat. "If you think you are in present danger," he said, "you will leave now. And I will not only test the entire staff of the Auror Office for Marionette's Medicine immediately after you leave, but I will also move our Veritaserum interrogation forward to today. We'll lock down the Ministry until everyone is—"

"By Merlin, Geri, I don't know if _all that_ is necessary," laughed Harry. "That would be a lot of trouble just to go through for a feeling—"

"Harry, your gut feelings and your intuition have saved not just the Ministry, but the world, multiple times," said Stenet. "And I'll add that it's Adelina Nelson Day, which seems to be the perfect day to plan an attack to shock the world. We should take extreme caution and address this right now before anything happens. Tell Aanmar and Brickface. If you are feeling this so strongly that you came to have a talk with me about it, I'd like to take your suspicions seriously, if you'll allow me to."

"Geri, you're a lifesaver," said Harry. "I'm sorry to trouble you with this, but… things just… in recent years, things have felt more and more strongly like Voldemort and Ingot than I remember at any other time. It's not a coincidence. It feels like our office could host a Dementor funeral right now, and despite our usual dour mood around here, _that_ is definitely less normal than… well, less normal than normal."

"I understand, Harry," said Stenet. "Don't worry; I'll get on that right now."

Harry scratched his sideburns, then wiped a bit of sweat off his brow.

"I don't know if it's just my nerves," said Harry, looking around, "but I'm sweating. Is it really hot in here?"

"Ministry cooling has been funky lately," said Stenet. "Nothing life-threatening or conspiratorial. It's just a hot day out."

"Happy Adelina Nelson Day," said Harry, leaving the office. "I'll let Aanmar and Brickface know to keep an eye on things when we announce the double dose of random testing that's going to happen today. We'll see if anyone bolts."

Stenet smiled and waved after Harry, then took out two wands as Harry closed the door and pointed them at the fireplace in his office.

"_Frisorba Vitigida,_" he said, and a spark of Frostflame leapt onto the logs in the fireplace, sending a cooling breeze across the office immediately.

He unwrapped the sandwich he'd brought for lunch, and brought it up to his mouth, then stopped.

He laughed, putting the sandwich back down, and did the usual once-over for curses and poisons. How could he have almost forgotten that? Finding nothing, he bit into the sandwich happily, chewed, and swallowed, organizing his papers for the coming security scan, and putting in an order with the Potions department for a bit more Veritaserum. They were going to need it. Not enough to invade the privacy of his employees—just enough to check if they were really _his_ employees.

The fireplace was crackling slightly more than usual. He glanced over, cautiously examining anything that was out of the ordinary as he was trained to do.

A vague green smoke, almost too faint to see, was wafting from the blue flames.

He tried to shout out, but no sound came from his throat; his lungs seized up and he was unable to breathe, let alone yell an alert or cast a spell.

_Aguamenti!_ he cried nonverbally, pointing a wand towards the fireplace.

The water rushed out of his wand onto the flames, and suddenly the green smoke billowed out like foam from a waterfall, washing over him. He ran for the door, but his limbs slowly gave out one by one and he crashed to the ground on his side, gasping and choking.

The smoke cleared out in a flash; the door opened, and Caradoc Slade, Senior Undersecretary to the Minister for Magic, walked in.

Stenet tried to signal that he needed help; Slade walked over and crouched down next to Stenet, letting the door close behind him.

"Aw, look at you," he crooned softly. "That's one way to beat the heat—paralyze all nerves. Then you can't feel warm. Or much of anything, really, besides the sweet embrace of death…"

Stenet tried to gasp, but his lungs drew no air; he was suffocating.

"Lovely new poison, isn't it," said Slade. "Reacts with Frostflame to produce a deadly inhalant. Nobody knows about it, because Frostflame is so new. You should feel lucky—you're the first human to experience it!"

Darkness was closing in around Stenet's eyes, as he gave a few final twitches and stared blankly ahead.

"Don't worry," said Slade, uncorking a small vial and lowering himself down to look Stenet in the eye. "You'll still serve some purpose after you die… you'll still be useful. _Sectumsempra!_"

Stenet's neck was severed instantly; the breath that had caught in his throat was suddenly released, and his blood began to spill out all over the floor.

With a wave of his wand, Slade began to siphon the blood into the vial; magically enchanted for this purpose, the vial did not fill until every drop of blood had been drained out of Stenet's corpse and he was nothing more than a shriveled husk on the ground. Slade capped the vial and patted Stenet on the back of the head.

"Bloody good time talking with you," said Slade, strolling out of the room and leaving the door wide open in his wake.

* * *

_**The Book 6 uploading schedule is still not set in stone. To play it safe, I'll just say that I'll be uploading two more chapters sometime by the weekend after this one. I'll see how fast I can write without rushing and get back to you when I upload Chapter Three. Hopefully I'll have a regular uploading schedule to give to you by that time, and hopefully it'll be a fast schedule!**_

_**Please review, and I'll see you again soon for Chapter Two!**_


	2. The Wilcox House

_**I changed the name of this chapter, from "The Auror Office" to "The Wilcox House." In the original chapter outline, Albus is actually in the Auror Office, but for several reasons, that was changed. Seeing as how none of this chapter is set in the Auror Office, I decided to rename it to something more relevant. The other chapter names will stand, though!**_

* * *

CHAPTER TWO

THE WILCOX HOUSE

O

"You know," said Albus, looking around the sitting-room, "I never really gave that much thought to what other peoples' houses might look like. I've always been so carefully protected throughout my life… I haven't visited friends' houses much."

"Well, I'm glad you're visiting mine!" said Exo. "What do you think?"

The Wilcox house was decorated sparsely but methodically. There weren't many knickknacks on the walls, but what was there was always in the perfect spot and had the perfect pattern and colors. The walls were a gentle off-white; the windows were decorated with the finest lilac silk curtains. The tables and chairs were a light color of wood, and the couches had light floral patterns. The entire room gave off a feel of gentility and serenity; Albus got the feeling that this was a place in which one's troubles could melt away simply by sitting and basking in the warm light that filtered into the softly glowing room.

Above the floral-patterned couch, there was a picture frame made of weaving vines. Inside, it showed Professor Wilcox, and Exo at about the age he would have gone to Hogwarts. Albus had the feeling that it might have held other people at an earlier point in time. It was an awfully big picture frame for just a family of two.

The house was large, but not oppressively so. It was elegant, but not extravagant; gorgeous, but not gaudy or grandiose. It wasn't exactly what Albus would have expected, but he knew anyone would be lucky to live here. If his family had to flee the tiny bunker in which they currently resided, he hoped they could come here instead.

"So, tell me how everything's been going," said Exo, beckoning Albus up the stairs. "How is your internship at the Auror Office—besides…"

Albus knew Exo was referring to the tragedy that had struck a month ago in the murder of the Head of the Auror Office, Geri Stenet. It had been one of the worst blows he'd ever felt; not only was Stenet a close friend of the Potters, he was also a highly influential force for good.

They had found the apparent perpetrator—the exotic new poison that had been used, and a vial containing some of Stenet's blood, had been discovered in the office of Killian Aubrey, who had disappeared shortly after. Harry, however, did not believe it for a second. Aubrey had some flaws, but Harry said it was a set-up to divert attention from the real menace, and that Aubrey had not gone on the run but had been captured.

Very few people believed him, though, once they got a good look at some of the memories of Aubrey from people around the Auror Office… especially those from Lynwood Chinch.

Aubrey had been verbally abusing Chinch and others around the office for years. His volatile temper and frequent outbursts led many people to believe he was a violent individual even before the attacks, and later evidence from Muggle experts showed that some of Aubrey's hair had been discovered on Stenet's body. Harry still smelled a setup. Albus didn't know what to believe anymore.

"Albus?" asked Exo; Albus shook himself out of the thoughts in which he had been lost, realizing he hadn't responded to Exo's question.

"The internship is going… okay," said Albus. "I was kind of hoping for more, but… I'm doing a lot of desk work."

"This is my room," said Exo, opening a door with a push from his fingertips. "Feel free to have a look around and everything… what's mine is yours. Oh, and sorry for interrupting—do keep going."

"I guess I didn't exactly anticipate being sent out into the field to fight Dark wizards, either," said Albus as he stepped into Exo's room, "but I didn't suspect there was so much desk work to be done in the Auror Office. They're definitely taking advantage of my presence there, too, because they're giving me a _lot_ of paperwork… Wow, Exo, I really like your room!"

Though the rest of the house didn't look much like Albus would have thought the Wilcox residence would look, Exo's room looked exactly like Albus expected. The room was so messy in some parts that Albus couldn't see the floor, but other areas were so neatly cleaned it looked like a girl's room. Exo's desk was cluttered with schoolwork even at this time, and books were all over the place, but even his dirty laundry was neatly packed in a laundry basket tucked in the corner of the room. Exo's bed at school was only neatly made half of the time, and his schoolwork was occasionally all over the place; sometimes, he wanted to organize it, but he would only ever get half-finished. Albus figured that this state of half-togetherness of Exo's room was an indication that Exo had tried to clean up when he heard Albus was coming, but again was too impatient to finish.

"Sorry about the state of some things in the room," said Exo, falling over onto his bed and lying down on his back, his legs dangling off the side of the bed. They didn't touch the ground; he was still very short, and the bed was fairly tall. It looked like a very lush and relaxing bed. There was a curtain to draw around it if he wanted. The curtain had a fair amount of rips and tears.

"Things tend to get messy during the full moon," continued Exo, "and since it's always just going to get messy again the next month, it's kind of hard to motivate myself to clean up."

"That's understandable," said Albus. "You stay in this room during your transformation?"

"Yeah," said Exo. "My dad says he wants me to be in a very familiar location when I transform, whenever possible. It eases my wolf-influenced mind when I'm somewhere comfortable and I recognize my surroundings… it makes me less anxious, even when I'm on Wolfsbane. Dad actually has a part of his office that he seals off, which he makes look exactly like my room whenever I go up there for the full moon… messy papers and everything."

"Wow," said Albus. "That's dedication. He definitely cares about you."

Still lying flat on the bed, Exo shrugged.

"What does that mean?" asked Albus, feeling worried by that response.

"Oh, no, he definitely cares about me a lot," said Exo. "And, I mean, it helps, but… I wish there was a way someone could help me _more._"

Albus walked around and looked at some of the books on Albus's bookshelves. The largest quantity of books were young adult novels, a lot of them romance novels and some of them written by Muggles. There were also a lot of nonfiction books about research on werewolves, but these were all fairly dusty and looked like they hadn't been picked up in a while.

"My dad used to own a lot of those," said Exo, noticing Albus staring at the bookshelves. "The ones on werewolves, anyway. He researched it a lot when I was young, I guess, to see how other people dealt with having werewolves for kids and the like. I got more interested in what was happening to me as time went on, if only because I was desperate to find an author who suggested that a cure was possible… so I took them into my room."

The most well-read book on the shelf, judging by the wear and tear on the covers, was one entitled _The First Werewolf (And Other Firsts in Magical History)._

"Do they _know_ who the first werewolf was?" asked Albus, pulling out the book.

"Yeah, it's pretty well documented who the first werewolf was, actually," said Exo. "His name was Draxler Cordot—he was a magical theorist from a really long time ago. One of his spells went… well, about as wrong as you can get. Obviously."

"Draxler Cordot?"

He had felt it many times in the previous months: Any time something reminded him of his previous quest to uncover any and all information about the Devoctrices, he felt sick with fear. His legs wobbled and almost gave out; he placed a hand on the bookshelf to steady himself as his stomach turned over and his heart gave a few agitated leaps. But despite the physical reaction, he forced himself to consider this issue: it had to be important in some way.

Draxler Cordot was said to be the creator of the Hourglass Empire. He had known about the Devs. What did that mean for werewolves? Was the condition another Dev? But then, why would Cordot cast it on _himself?_ Was it a Dev gone wrong? How else could they go wrong?

His lungs were constricting too much for him to continue; he took a deep breath and calmed himself, purging out the undesirable thoughts.

"Are you okay?" asked Exo, looking at him curiously as he sat up.

"I'm fine," said Albus, smiling. "Just… you know, thinking about the Auror Office… and what's going to come next now that Stenet's gone…"

"What _is_ going to come next?" asked Exo. "Is your dad going to be the Head Auror again now? That's what my dad was saying…"

"He has to," said Albus, sighing. "Because, guess who the public wants back in the position of Head Auror if my dad doesn't take it?"

Exo stared at him. "I _know_ you're not going to say it's Auchland…"

"It's Auchland," said Albus, shaking his head.

"No," said Exo, grasping his hair and pulling. "No. That's not possible. You're just having me on, aren't you? How does _one person_ in the _world,_ let alone a _majority_ in our country, think he's a competent _human being,_ let alone _leader?_"

"Dad tried to explain it to me," said Albus. "I still don't fully understand, but he tried to explain. He said that Auchland is really experienced at swinging the public's opinion. See, when Auchland was in office, he covered up so much of the chaos that was happening that the public was led to believe he was doing a good job of keeping the bad guys in check. He basically swept everything under the rug, but the common people actually did think he cleaned up the mess. He was only ousted because things got out of hand—but now that he's been kicked out and things have gotten _really_ out of hand, the people want him back. Because when he was in office, nobody heard about the bad stuff that was happening, so they assumed there wasn't any."

"But can't the Auror Office tell the people about this?" asked Exo.

"Opinions aren't easy to change," said Albus. "There are still Muggles, four years after the Global Revelation now, who think wizards are holding back the ability to solve world hunger, despite the repeated attempts to explain that magically altered or enhanced food has really negative effects on the body and mind. We've explained so many times, in so many ways, with so much rigor, yet people just refuse to believe what they're told. Now, the unfortunate way everything was timed, the situation really got bad right after Auchland left. The entire Auror Office was almost kidnapped by Sandbloods a couple months after Auchland left, and then the school was attacked by Dismiusa and nobody could figure out how to get people in or out… now Stenet's been killed. I don't blame people for wanting to go back to what they thought was working."

"I do," said Exo, flopping back down on his bed.

Albus sighed. If only they'd been able to tell the public about their recent victory in the Hourglass Empire… the people might have had a little faith in the new chain of command. But nobody was allowed to know about it, not even Albus's friends. Not even Exo. The Hourglass Empire was still struggling to expel the Sandbloods and take back their home, and still didn't want the secret of the Empire to be unleashed on the world; otherwise their entire way of life would experience a massive upheaval with completely unknown consequences. So, since that was all still top-secret information, the public was left believing that the Auror Office hadn't made any progress in a very long time.

"So… how was your internship there?" asked Exo. "Dad told me that your dad didn't want you physically in the office anymore after what happened to Stenet. What've you been doing for your internship since then?"

"Still paperwork," sighed Albus. "Dad just brings the papers home from the office now and I do them at home. Don't get me wrong, some of it is interesting… most of it is just sorting criminal files, though."

"That still sounds somewhat interesting," said Exo.

"Not really," admitted Albus. "You'd think so, but they don't give me any of the secret stuff, and a lot of the stuff is secret. So I'm left with the guys who accidentally curse their neighbors and the most minor of Dark Magic offenses."

"Ugh. You can't ask for any more interesting work?"

"Well, I tried that," said Albus, sighing again. "They… said no."

He had asked his Uncle Ron, who was now masquerading as a foreign Auror named Aanmar Vioulii from Ilka, whether he was going to be stuck doing the boring manual labor all summer or if he could be doing anything more interesting. Uncle Ron, however, had then pointed out to Albus that he should be considering himself lucky to be doing the boring work that was still helping their cause; he referenced the raid on the Sandblood base which had killed several of his friends and nearly killed him, too. Albus had felt bad for asking when Ron pointed out what happened to people who worked on the other side of the desk; collectively since Voldemort's first rise to power, sixty-three percent of Aurors had died in the field sometime before retiring. The average lifespan of someone joining the Auror force now was forty-eight.

And yet he still wanted to be an Auror. Clearly there was something wrong with his head. James, having graduated, was now in the recruitment process for the Auror Office, so there was clearly something wrong with _his_ head, too—but this was old news. They'd known James's brain to be dysfunctional for quite some time.

Albus took one of Exo's old werewolf books. He wiped some of the dust off and itched his nose as the dust drifted towards him. He opened it up and started browsing the pages as Exo continued to ask him questions about the summer.

"I feel like I should have taken a summer internship," said Exo. "But my once-a-month guaranteed absence is kind of a turn-off for employers, no matter how much your Aunt Hermione's done for werewolves in legislation. Do you think your internship is a good experience, overall?"

"It's good experience, but that doesn't necessarily make it a good experience," said Albus.

"What?"

"It's good _job_ experience," specified Albus. "But it's not that enjoyable. It's kind of disillusioning me to the real world as a whole, in fact. The real world sucks. Hogwarts is great. I just want to stay there forever…"

"You could," noted Exo. "You could teach there."

"Oh, Merlin," laughed Albus. "I don't think I could teach… The minute I encountered a Riley Andersen in one of my classes, I'd snap."

"There's benefits and pitfalls of every job," said Exo.

"I guess I can't count it out," said Albus, passing a few pictures of werewolves on the attack in one of Exo's books. The werewolves appeared to have been eating people, but Exo scrawled over the humans with crayon on all of the pages, blacking out all of the horrible things that the werewolves were doing.

"What're Alec and Aidan doing this summer, again?" asked Exo. "Did either of them do an internship?"

"Aidan used to be a few doors down from me in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement," said Albus, "until I was removed from the office for safety concerns. He's got an internship in the Wizengamot."

"Really?" asked Exo. "That sounds… even less interesting than your job."

"Yes, but mundane labor is to Aidan what sunlight is to flowers," said Albus, yawning as he turned a few more pages. "Alec, on the other hand, got the best internship ever."

"_Alec_ got an internship?" sputtered Exo. "Never mind, the Auchland thing makes sense now—the world is just completely upside-down."

"Well, he only applied to one," said Albus. "The best one out there. And somehow, he got it. He's interning on the Loch Stock Liner."

"No way," said Exo. "That's so awesome! I bet he's going to have a lot of awesome stories to tell."

"Probably," said Albus. "I wonder if they've seen the Loch Stock Stalker lately."

"The what?"

"The big creature that lives in Digher Straits," said Albus. "It follows the Loch Stock Liner around sometimes, I guess. Nobody knows what it is. It's one of the great unsolved mysteries of the world."

"I've only been on the Loch Stock Liner a few times," said Exo.

"Lately, I've only been on it when something really terrible is happening," said Albus. "The Aurors nearly getting kidnapped, me almost getting possessed…" _And teleporting there via Portkey to see if James survived the escape from the Hourglass Empire._

"I hope you don't end up associating it with doom and gloom," said Exo. "It's so much fun. Although it's pretty expensive, so I doubt I'll be traveling on it much when I'm older unless I get a job with a really nice salary, or one that pays for your travel expenses."

"Alec said he might like to work on there for a living," said Albus. "Wouldn't that be cool? Maybe we could get free rides."

"That's a taxing job, isn't it?"

"He was hoping to do it half the year, and devote the other half to inventing spells and stuff," said Albus. "He's got high hopes. Which is good, because maybe those hopes will kick his butt into gear in school."

"Not likely," said Exo. "I mean, how high do your grades have to be to get a job working on the Loch Stock Liner? They're not interested in grades, they're interested in how well you can operate the ship. And now that he's interned there, he's a prime candidate no matter how he does on his N.E.W.T.s. They won't care about that."

"Well, he would have to get good grades in order to get funding if he wanted funding for his research into new spells," said Albus.

"Yeah, but it looks like he's probably going to be getting his money from the Loch Stock Liner job," said Exo. "He probably doesn't _want_ funding. Knowing Alec, he would want his successes to be completely his own work, so that he could show up everyone who said he couldn't do it. He wouldn't want to owe anything to anybody."

"You're probably right on that one," said Albus, shrugging. "Well, I guess he can just coast through the end of his education without any worries, then… assuming he really does get a job on board the Liner when he graduates."

"They probably wouldn't waste their time training him if he didn't want to stay there for more than just the summer," said Exo.

"True."

"That's pretty smart of him," mumbled Exo. "He doesn't have a care in the world anymore, does he? If he ever had one to begin with. He doesn't have to worry about grades, or tests, or job applications, or financial security… How is the worst student in our friend group set up for the best life?"

"Well…"

"He's really smart," observed Exo, "to have figured out how to get what he wants out of life without really having to try at all. Wish I could do that. Must be nice, not having a debilitating medical condition hovering over you forever… not being required to spend a ton of money on a regular schedule to keep yourself healthy, while at the same time probably not qualified for the best high-paying jobs because of the same condition…"

"Oh, come off it," said Albus. "People aren't like that anymore. You can file a lawsuit if they discriminate against you just for being a werewolf. And we've got Aidan in the Wizengamot, probably, so you know you'd win!"

Exo sighed.

Albus picked up another book off the shelf and began thumbing through it. A piece of parchment was dislodged from between two of the pages, and fluttered onto Albus's lap. Some of Exo's personal research on werewolves, maybe? Albus picked up the note, and began reading it.

_Dear Dad,_

_I'm not sorry. Not for this. I'm only sorry that I didn't do it sooner. I've been a burden on you for your whole life and I can tell you wished I'd died in Greyback's mouth all those years ago, so here's making up for that. I know you won't miss me. Goodbye._

_Exo_

Albus stared at the note in his hand, hardly breathing. He looked over to Exo.

"What?" asked Exo. "What did you find?"

"What is this?" asked Albus, handing the note to Exo.

Exo scrolled through it, and he blushed furiously.

"It's nothing," he muttered, stuffing the note in his pocket.

"It most certainly is not," said Albus.

"We don't need to talk about it, it was years ago—"

"Exo, that was a _suicide note,_" whispered Albus. "There's _no way_ we're not talking about that. This is serious—"

"I was depressed for a while, okay?"

"If you were depressed once, you could be again," said Albus. "I'm not waiting for you to fall into depression again before we talk about it."

"Merlin's pants, Albus, it's not even me anymore," said Exo, holding up his hands. "I wrote that years ago. I've matured. Changed. And obviously I didn't go through with it or I wouldn't be here to hear you lecture me about something that's no longer applicable—"

"Exo—"

"I'm not talking about it, Albus," said Exo, taking the note out of his pocket and ripping it into small pieces. "So if you're going to insist on talking to me about it, get ready for an extremely one-sided conversation. Hand me one of the books over there so I can tune you out."

Albus bit his lip, trying to think of some way to reach Exo… this wasn't the sort of thing he should be keeping bottled inside. It could legitimately kill him.

Albus looked down at the page into which Exo had tucked the suicide note. It was in a chapter regarding the treatment of lycanthropy, and at the bottom, the chapter ended with the sentence, _Unfortunately, it seems as though there may never be a cure for this condition._

Exo had crossed out the "Un" in "Unfortunately" and entirely scratched out the "Never" at some point. Under that, in a different color and probably at a later time, he had added "Or not."

"Well, get ready for one fewer friend if you're going to tune me out," said Albus. "Because this is the sort of thing you _have_ to talk about with friends. It's not your decision whether or not this is something you should talk about—it just _is._ So if you're not willing to talk about it with me, I guess I'm not really that good of a friend, then, and I'll just have your dad send a message to my dad to come pick me up right now."

"Come on, Albus," groaned Exo. "That's just stupid."

"No, stupid is thinking you don't need help when you clearly almost offed yourself just a few short years ago," growled Albus. "Please just tell me what was going through your mind and why, and if it's not a problem anymore, assure me of that. Then I'll feel better. Okay?"

"Being a werewolf sucks," said Exo bitingly. "That's all that was going through my head at the time, okay? It was between first and second year. I kept reading all this research that talked about how a lot of kids with lycanthropy die before they reach their teens. It's in that book you're holding. I didn't pay attention to the fact that a lot of those kids were poor and couldn't afford the proper treatment, or had uninformed parents who didn't know exactly how to deal with their kids' care. A lot of those kids were malnourished, too, because they joined the roaming werewolf community and didn't get the diet and stable lifestyle that they needed. But I was too young to understand that. All I saw was that a lot of werewolves died early, and died in a lot of pain. I decided I'd save myself the pain and just end it right then and there. I cast the Killing Curse on myself, but I was too young to supply the proper power and the proper emotion, so I only got a bruise. I was too scared to try and do it any other way, so I gave up. Then… I became friends with you guys, and I finally had something to live for."

Albus refrained from saying anything, mostly because he felt that he would have found himself choking up if he'd tried to speak.

"And I promise you," said Exo, "I wouldn't even consider it in the slightest now that I have you guys to help me through whatever I need help getting through."

"I'm glad to hear that," said Albus, smiling broadly. He walked over to Exo and hugged him tightly, then returned the books to their shelves.

"So," said Exo, eager to move on in the conversation. "Anyone else get a cool internship that we know about? Rose? Mia?"

"Rose is in the International Magical Office of Law," said Albus. "Mia is working for pay this summer, I guess, so she didn't have time for an internship."

"Where's she working?"

"One of the shops in Diagon Alley," said Albus. "I forget which one. Too bad Mum and Dad aren't even going to slightly consider bringing me to Diagon Alley this year… otherwise we might have been able to drop by and say hello."

"My dad still brought me, but was just nervous about it," said Exo. "Because of Siobor, you know. But now that he's in Azkaban, with no fingers…"

"I can't believe we got him," said Albus. "Now, if we could only capture the rest of the Sandbloods, or at least unmask the Man in the Shadows…"

"What was with that note you said IMW sent you at the end of last year?" asked Exo. "He told you 'goodbye?' What does that mean?"

"I don't know," said Albus truthfully. "I was wondering if he'd be spying on me at home, too… But if he was actually saying goodbye, maybe it means that he's not going to interfere in my life anymore? As much as he inconvenienced me last year, I'm kind of worried about that. He's obviously not working _fully_ against us, and I don't know how much help he could give us if he hadn't said goodbye last year…"

"If he was telling the truth about saying goodbye," said Exo.

"Well, that's a valid point," said Albus, shrugging.

"Why do you say he's obviously not working fully against you?"

Albus had again forgotten that he was one of the only people who knew that IMW was involved in Siobor's capture—or, at least, that he claimed to be involved. He could have been lying about that, too.

"I just get that feeling," said Albus. "You know… He could have kept the Bloodblade and the Marauder's Map, but he didn't…"

"And there are just as likely ulterior motives he could have for returning them to you," said Exo. "Gaining your trust, for one."

The tension was starting to eke into Albus's nerves again from the direction in which the discussion was going. He changed the topic as he started to sweat.

"So, are you doing anything interesting for the rest of the summer?"

"Dad said we were going to go traveling somewhere," said Exo. "He didn't specify exactly where, though, he just said we were going traveling. He likes to only decide these things at the last minute, though, so that nobody knows where we're going until we leave."

"I hate all these safety precautions," said Albus. "We're literally never going to know what it's like to not have to worry about being killed everywhere we go. Even if we win the war tomorrow, there'd still be people out there who want us dead very badly."

"Yeah," said Exo, "but at least we've never had a normal life, so we don't know what it's like and we don't know what we're missing."

Albus laughed.

"I think it's probably another school visit, though," said Exo. "I've visited a couple of schools with Dad in the past. Hey, if it's a school visit, want me to see if you can come with us?"

"I've got my internship in the Auror Office to finish up," said Albus, shrugging.

"But we've usually gone right before the school year starts, and we visit the schools that are already in session," said Exo. "Your internship would finish up by then, wouldn't it?"

"Yeah," said Albus. "I mean—if your dad could take me, then that would be awesome! I don't want to be a burden, though!"

"You wouldn't be," said Exo. "I'll ask him."

"Cool, thank you!" said Albus.

Grinning, he looked around the room. Something he hadn't yet noticed in Exo's room caught his eye: a black sphere resting on a little pedestal on a small table in the corner. The sphere was almost perfect, except that the top was slightly indented. A little glass window showed a dark liquid inside with a little polyhedron inside.

"Oh, that's my magic eight ball," said Exo. "Not so magic anymore, though. Now it's just an eight ball. Have you ever seen one?"

"No, actually," said Albus, walking over to it and picking it up. The polyhedron at the top read, on the side pressed against the little window, _Try asking again._

"The first eight questions someone asks a magic eight ball will be answered correctly," said Exo. "Problem is, there's literally no difference between a magic eight ball and a Muggle knock-off of a magic eight ball… or whether you're the first person to ask it your questions. There's no way to tell, so you really don't know if what you're asking is being answered correctly… So you might as well just flip a coin, even if it _is_ answering your question correctly. Con artists sell these on the street all the time. The only way to tell is by asking it the same question several times in a row and seeing if it answers the same each time, but then you waste all your questions _testing_ it and you never know how many correct answers are left."

"Who makes them?"

"People in the fortune-telling business," said Exo. "Same people who make actual Fortune Cookies and stuff like that. They don't give away their secrets, and they never make too many of the same product at a time."

"How many questions have you asked?"

"Oh, dozens," said Exo, laughing. "I don't know why, but even when you know something's not telling you accurately, it's kind of nice to pretend to be assured of something by an outside party."

Albus picked up the magic eight ball and shook it, thinking strongly to himself, _Will Exo ever be cured of his werewolf condition?_

The door opened, and Exo's father walked in.

"Hello, Albus!" said Wilcox, smiling broadly. "Good to have you over! Anything I can do for you boys, or do you have everything you need up here?"

"I think we're good," said Exo. "Thanks, though."

"Not a problem," said Wilcox. "Dinner will be ready in a couple of hours. Have fun, boys!"

"Hey, Dad?" asked Exo. "That trip we're going to go on in a couple of weeks… Is it another school visit?"

"Actually, yes, it is," said Wilcox, glancing over to Albus as if he knew why Exo was asking now. "I just made arrangements with all of the schools! None of them are ones you've already visited, either."

"_All_ of the schools?" asked Exo curiously. "_Them?_ We're going to more than one?"

"Oh, we're going to six or seven," said Wilcox, grinning triumphantly.

"Wow!" said Exo, jumping up. "That's so cool! Where?"

"Everywhere, really," said Wilcox. "A few in Asia, a few in the Americas."

"I was wondering, Dad," said Exo hopefully. "Do you think Albus could come with us?"

Wilcox twisted his mouth around. "Well… If he doesn't mind missing the first week or so of classes like you're going to, Exorian… I don't see why not. It would be nice to have a face around that everyone will recognize, now that I think about it. The people at these schools will already know you, Albus, or your father at the least; you'd be very popular instantly. So, you want to tag along, do you?"

"Absolutely!" laughed Albus, standing up. "Thank you!"

"It'll be good to have you," said Wilcox. "Everyone will love to meet you. I'll let the heads of each school know you're coming… only them, of course; this will have to be secret, as is everything you're involved in." He winked. "Glad my son suggested it!"

"Me, too," said Albus, grinning at Exo.

He looked down to see that he was still holding the eight ball, but he had turned it sideways before he'd seen what its answer was to his question about a cure for Exo.

But what did it really matter, anyway? Even if the eight ball had been prophetic, when you really got down to it, "fate" boiled down to what you were willing to try and do about it. Your destiny was up to you.

* * *

_**I'd like to have a little game with you guys...**_

_**Let's play Hangman with the name of the seventh book!**_

_**At the end of your review, register your vote for the letter that you'd like to see guessed next. When I upload the next chapter on Sunday, I'll check to see which letter has the most votes. If that letter appears in the title, I'll fill in any spaces it occupies. Then, next chapter, I'll restart the count and I'll do the same thing. ANONYMOUS REVIEWS CAN STILL GUESS, BUT, if I get the sense that someone is submitting multiple reviews under different names to swing the vote, I won't count them.**_

_**(Please don't just leave a one-letter review, though.)**_

_**ALBUS POTTER AND THE _._._._._._._ _._._._._._**_

_**And if anyone guesses it correctly, I'll message them to let them know (if that person has an account). I don't think anyone will guess it without a few letters, especially because the full title does not appear in the series, but I've been wrong before.**_


	3. Seven Schools in Thirteen Days

_**UPLOADING SCHEDULE FOR THE NEXT CHAPTERS:**_

_**I'm probably just going to go with Wednesdays and Saturdays for the month of August, and then maybe switch to Tuesdays/Thursdays/Saturdays for the month of September. I'll probably go on a binge towards the end of September. I might not finish this book QUITE by the end of summer but it'll be close enough.**_

_**Happy reading!**_

_**-Cody**_

* * *

CHAPTER THREE

SEVEN SCHOOLS IN THIRTEEN DAYS

O

"Three passengers, one adult and two kids?" asked a very familiar voice. "That'll be—hey, wait a minute, I know you people!"

"Alec!" exclaimed Exo, and he ran and hugged the exhausted-looking blond, who was performing the job that first mate Milo Melaenk usually did. Albus crawled up the ladder next onto the Loch Stock Liner, and also hugged Alec tightly.

"Hey, I was wondering if I'd see you this summer!" said Alec. "Where're you two off to so soon before school starts? And excuse me—I wasn't invited?"

"You're working!" said Albus. "Obviously."

"Well, you'd better pay me extra, for hurting my feelings," said Alec, sticking out his lower lip. "That'll be eight Galleons, six Sickles, tips are welcome!"

"Ah, fare's gone up, has it?" chuckled Wilcox, digging into his pocket.

"Well, when you people keep commandeering the Liner for emergency missions, profits tend to go down," said Alec. "That's what they told me to tell you if you showed up, anyway. All aboard! We can talk inside the cabins. Where're you headed?"

"The School of Camatkara in India," said Wilcox, handing Alec the fare. "I believe the closest body of water is Kalajila?"

Alec screwed his eyes up in concentration. He scribbled a few letters on a sheet of metal with a red quill, and then nodded and beckoned them through to the cabins.

"So how do you already know where every body of water in the world is?" asked Albus. "I always thought that it had to have taken Milo years to compile all that information in his head!"

"It did," said Alec. "He's cast a memory-sharing charm. I have to concentrate really hard, but I can access his memories. They're in a vault below the ship, so if he ever dies, I can still access his memories and figure out where to go! Isn't that neat?"

"If by 'neat,' you mean morbid and nauseating, yes," said Albus.

"You can't spell 'nauseating' without 'neat!'" said Alec proudly.

"Wait, can you?" asked Exo, scratching his head.

"I don't know," admitted Alec. "That was a guess."

"You _could_ spell it without 'neat,' it would just be spelled incorrectly," said Wilcox as the lights began flashing. "Hold on to something, boys!"

"Hey, that's my job to say that!" said Alec, grabbing onto a railing as the ship sank below the surface.

"Aren't you supposed to give a little speech about how safe the Loch Stock Liner is, too, or something?" asked Albus.

"Oh, right!" said Alec. "Er—Thank you for your business! As per our code of conduct, we will always arrive at your stop within one hour or we'll reimburse you; two hours and we'll reimburse you double. Feel free to settle into any open cabin. Please don't smash the windows. And welcome to the Loch Stock Liner, safest way to travel! Hazard-free since 1883."

"You sound just like Milo," said Albus, laughing.

"Well, I had to memorize it in order to get the internship."

"Sounds right to me, and I've used the Liner more than my fair share," said Wilcox. "Actually, the second mate of the Liner is Exo's godmother. Cilia Doaty."

"Oh, I know Cilia!" laughed Alec. "She's the funniest damn woman I've ever met! Though for someone who works on a boat that goes underwater, she sure does hate fish. You'd think she'd have gotten over that."

"Who's your godfather?" asked Albus, turning to Exo.

Exo reddened furiously.

"Professor Valon," he said quietly.

"What? Really?" laughed Alec. "That's pretty cool! Why didn't you tell me that?"

"It didn't seem relevant at any point," mumbled Exo.

"Of course it's relevant!" said Alec. "It's perfect bullying material!"

"You do realize the Headmaster is standing right in front of you," noted Wilcox.

Alec looked over. "Nah, not _right_ in front of me… more like thirty degrees towards starboard?"

"Professor Valon was one of my closest friends at Hogwarts," said Wilcox, ignoring the comment. "He's responsible for Exorian's safety if anything ever happens to me."

The bottom dropped out of Albus's gut. For some reason, even with all the horrible things that he had imagined happening to his family, he had never considered anything happening to Wilcox. At the same time, he hoped Exo could come stay with _his_ family if anything happened—Professor Valon didn't have any kids, and though his dry wit was highly amusing in small doses, he didn't exactly seem like he would be a thrilling individual to hang around with for extended periods of time.

"So, you guys are visiting an Indian school of magic?" asked Alec. "Awesome! Sounds like fun!"

"More than just India," said Wilcox. "We're visiting three Asian schools—Camatkara in India, then Muxiao in China and Mahoutokoro in Japan. From there, we're jumping down to the Bruxa River Institute in Brazil and following their whirlpool-portal to the Molstraem Magical Academy. Then we'll be traveling down to Hextus Horra and finally ending in Fawdvelle before we head back to Hogwarts. By then it will be a week into the term. We actually won't be there for the Sorting this year."

"Aw," said Alec. "Who am I going to gamble with on which House gets the first student if you're not there, Albus?"

Wilcox pressed a hand to his face. "You know that's completely forbidden, right? Gambling in any form at Hogwarts?"

"Geez," said Alec, scratching the back of his neck. "Maybe it'd be best if you just tuned out every time I start talking, Professor… probably'd be easier on both of us."

Wilcox laughed. "Perhaps you're right."

The candles in the Liner flashed again, and they held on to the railings tight as the Liner surfaced. A young, well-dressed couple walked past them to exit the Liner.

"Thank you for your business!" called Alec after them. "Hope to see you again!"

They waved politely and smiled as they exited the cabins.

"Not really, they were dicks about the price and tried to negotiate it lower, and then they short-changed me," said Alec. "But any idiot knows there're twenty-_eight_ Knuts to a Sickle, not twenty-_seven._ And they thought I wouldn't notice."

"It's twenty-nine," said Exo.

"Merlin's Knuts, really?" grumbled Alec. "Bastards! I'll take it out of their hides if I see 'em again…"

"Take it out of their nuts," suggested Exo.

Wilcox chuckled again but tried to stifle it. The Liner submerged once more.

"So, Dad, I thought we were going to the Loft-Mason school in South Africa last?" asked Exo. "And I didn't know we were going to Hextus Horra. Is this new?"

"Right," said Wilcox. "Well, the Loft-Mason school _was_ going to have us visit, but they mailed me yesterday asking us not to come. I have no idea what's going on with them but I decided not to press the issue, especially the day before the trip. So I went with Plan B, which was contacting Hextus Horra, since it's essentially right on the way from Molstraem to Fawdvelle anyway. There's a piece of advice for you—always have a Plan B, but don't tell anyone that you have it, or they'll think you don't have confidence in Plan A."

Albus smiled; he thought he'd heard Wilcox give that advice before. It was good advice, and he'd have to remember it.

"Anyway, Hextus Horra said they could have us," said Wilcox. "So I moved the Fawdvelle visit back a couple of days so we can spend a couple of days at Hextus Horra. It's really a beautiful school, however tarnished its reputation has been."

"But it's super preppy," said Exo.

"I'll admit that," said Wilcox. "It's always been a bit exclusive and expensive. They're getting better at it, though. Trips like this, visits by students from other exotic locations, is what opens their eyes further. We can always learn from each other. When they see how… informal some of our students are…"

Wilcox's eyes drifted over to Alec, who was vigorously trying to bludgeon a moth on the wall, causing several cabin doors to open and several heads to peek out to see what was going on outside.

"Then maybe they'll realize there's no reason to be so uptight," finished Wilcox. "Students learn best when they're happy to learn."

"You've done a great job with that," said Albus.

"Thank you," said Wilcox, smiling kindly. "I appreciate that, because I've worked very hard to assure it to happen, so it means a lot to hear people appreciate what I'm doing. Trips like these are how I learn a lot of the tricks of the trade, actually. I see what works best in many schools, and I model our school after the best of everything. I often find, though, that the best is what's already at Hogwarts. You're very lucky to attend the school that you do."

"I'm lucky in a lot of ways," said Albus. _Just implausibly unlucky in other ways._

"Luck of the draw with Hogwarts there," said Wilcox. "And that's why it's always great to share what we have with everyone we can. One way to do that is to show them how things are done at Hogwarts, and tell them what works for us so that they can see if it would maybe work for them. The exchange is always mutual."

"Does Ilka have a school?" asked Alec.

Wilcox shrugged. "Who knows? Ilka is still the strangest place I have ever been, and I've seen some strange things. I'd like to reach out to them out there with open arms one day, but I don't fancy getting my hand bitten off."

They continued chatting with Alec for the hour's duration of the trip, and then the candles flashed again, and Alec glanced at his steel slab.

"Next stop, Kalajila," said Alec. "That's you guys, innit?"

"That's us indeed," said Wilcox. "Thank you for the trip, Alec, and it was good to see you! We'll probably see you again, as we'll be taking the Liner for most of the trips."

"Excellent, and good to see you, too!" said Alec. "Thank you for your business! Hope to see you again! Er—well, you just said you'll be taking the Liner more, again, so we will see you again, but saying that is protocol, you know."

The Liner surfaced, and Albus stepped out eagerly, curious as to what the new school would look like.

His eyes didn't disappoint.

Camatkara was lodged inside of a cliff that surrounded a small lake, only a little larger than a Quidditch pitch. The water was dark due to the lack of sunlight, since the cliffs probably blocked out most of the sun from the water at all times except high noon. Albus looked out and saw a large serpent swimming just below the surface, investigating their ship. He guessed by the presence of a magical creature, and the school right on the cliff, that this lake was unknown to Muggles.

The school wasn't just lodged in one side of the cliff, though. The premises surrounded the entire lake. In every direction Albus looked, he could see windows and doors and porches, academic buildings and residence halls. The school was a large campus area that encompassed the lake, carved into the cliffside. He couldn't wait to see what it looked like on the inside.

"You have to see Kalajila in the sunlight," said Wilcox to the boys. "I'll take you back outside at noon. It's really a miraculous sight. Come on towards the deck—they'll be dropping us ropes and they need to know how many people are coming up."

Wilcox escorted the two boys out to the center of the Liner, which sailed up next to a small orange rock at the edge of the lake. Several platforms levitated over the rock, a hundred feet or more in the air, at the same level as many of the buildings. A head popped over the side of one of the platforms, and three ropes were tossed down, with little discs the size of dinner plates attached to the bottoms of the ropes. One of the ropes was about to land right on Exo's head, but it diverted its course as if knowing it would have hit him, and landed next to him instead.

Wilcox stepped onto one of the discs and held tightly to the rope. The disc lifted itself into the air—the rope wasn't retracting, the disc was just rising into the air, like the head of a snake. Albus and Exo stepped onto the discs on the other ropes, and they were slowly lifted into the air as well. Alec waved goodbye to them and then the Liner disappeared under the waves; the serpentine form was spooked by the movement and swam away.

On the cliffs just to their left, someone jumped from a window about fifty feet above the water and landed in with a splash. The serpent creature in the lake suddenly picked up the laughing girl on its head, which was about the size of a small boat and colored like butter, while the rest of its body was pale blue. The girl rode the serpent swiftly in a lap around the lake. Then, the serpent picked up its head, lifting itself fully fifty feet out of the water to deposit the girl back in her window; she stroked it on the head and tossed it what looked like a steak.

"That's Gora," said Wilcox, pointing to the serpent, as it suddenly shrank, shape-shifting into a normal-sized horse in order to eat the steak. It was the same pale blue color as the serpent, with its mane the color of butter. "The British brought a Kelpie here when they colonized this school. When the British were expunged, they tried to take Gora back, but the school had come to love its mascot and begged them to let her stay. Gora is the second-oldest known Kelpie alive today. Being so old, she can take very large shapes."

"I thought Kelpies ate people," said Exo, clinging very tightly to his rope as they reached the top of their slow ascent.

"This one doesn't eat her friends," said Wilcox, stepping onto the levitating platform. "Gora has become as fond of the students as they've become of her." He turned to the greeting party that approached them. "Hello, Rahul! Good to see you again!"

"Same to you, Helio!" said Rahul in pristine English; he was a well-built young man with a white-gray streak running through otherwise black hair. "We're glad to have you down here to see our school while it's actually in session!"

"Well, I run a school of my own, so it's often hard to find time," said Wilcox. "Actually, we're visiting a lot of schools in these next couple of weeks, but it's gonna be hard to top Camatkara for these two! Their eyes are already ablaze with wonder."

"That fire's not gonna go out," said Rahul with a grin. "Come with me, boys, there's so much to see!"

"Rahul is the youngest Headmaster of any school in the world," said Wilcox. "How old are you again?"

"Just turned twenty-eight," said Rahul. "I was student body president while I was here, and then got the job of Headmaster five years after leaving."

"That's impressive," said Exo. "Way to not waste any time there!"

"What other schools will you be visiting on this trip?" asked Rahul.

"Muxiao next, followed by Mahoutokoro," said Wilcox.

"Ah—visiting Ting and Otaken. Tell those lovely Headmistresses that I say hello!"

"We will," said Wilcox. "Then we're jumping over to the Americas, down to the Bruxa River first, warping up to Molstraem, and heading down to Hextus Horra and Fawdvelle before we get back to Hogwarts. All in less than two weeks!"

"Fascinating," said Rahul as two doormen pulled open a large wooden door that led to a grand entrance hall lit with all colors of candles. "Not stopping by Katarina Pinzel? Or the Salem Witches' Institute?"

"No, Exo's already been to those," said Wilcox. "He's already been to Spiro Toko and Granite Sky as well. I wanted to show him some new sites."

"Will you be passing by Providence? My cousin's finally getting married to that tattoo artist… took him long enough… the wedding is in a few days!"

"I don't think we'll be there in time, otherwise I might stop by," said Wilcox. "I'd love to catch up with you more—but I also want these boys to see as much as their eyes can take in for the short duration of our stay here!"

"Right, yes, I'll leave the small talk to another time," said Rahul. "Come with me, lads! I'll show you the Sun Fountains first—that's everyone's favorite."

They walked through the halls, listening to Rahul describe the premises. The school wasn't for Hogwarts-age students as Albus had assumed: it was for students pursuing three more years of higher education past the mandatory three years of intensive schooling in Indian magical education, which started at age thirteen. Students learned most of their basic spells at home and then entered a rigorous class schedule for three years, which Rahul claimed fully covered O.W.L. material. Albus cringed at the thought of stuffing all of their O.W.L. material from his first five years into three… but if the system worked for them, then who was he to argue? They continued through the halls, hearing some interesting tidbits about the school's construction and some embarrassing history about the British occupation, and then they stepped into what was evidently the dining area.

The room was massive and dome-shaped; it was as big as the lake below and a hundred feet tall in the center. There were no windows, just three doors equally spaced along the walls; it looked like the inside of a hollow fortress from the walls, reinforced with steel like Muggle complexes. There were also no candles or lamps in the room. The light was coming from a fountain in the center of the room.

Ornate and majestic, the water from the fountain soared fifty feet into the air and came crashing down into a pool below. But it wasn't ordinary water. This water seemed to be made of light. It was emitting a strong yellow glow that lit the room, but for some reason, looking directly into it did not hurt Albus's eyes, nor did it leave a negative streak across his vision when he looked away. He could look directly into the dazzling light-water, and he could see dancing embers flowing all around inside it, fluttering about like birds.

"You must be hungry from your travels," said Rahul. "May we treat you to dinner? It likely was not dinner-time in the time zone from which you left… but we can give you a little potion to rectify your body's natural inner clock. That potion is not best taken on an empty stomach, though, so I implore you to let us serve you!"

"Some dinner would be wonderful," said Wilcox, nodding. "We would greatly appreciate that! But don't worry about the potion—we took some before we left."

"Smart of you," said Rahul. "All right, then, come with me!"

He brought them to the edge of the fountain; there were tables encircling the fountain which hosted a variety of food options. Albus picked up a little bit of everything to try it, and he liked most of it. It was difficult to concentrate on the taste, though, because as more and more of the students began to pass him, they pointed and whispered excitedly, and then brought their friends over to stare at Albus in what they evidently thought was a discreet fashion. It was, of course, extremely noticeable, especially when half of the cafeteria eventually stopped eating to collectively glance at him sideways.

A bit of him, for some reason, was happy to be back where he was getting the celebrity treatment. It was like a guilty pleasure for him now. The only problem was the very real thought that any of these Indian students could be IMW, or someone even worse, in disguise. But Wilcox wouldn't have taken him if there hadn't been precautions… But there were precautions everywhere and they hadn't mattered lately…

It was a question he constantly asked himself. If he was vulnerable here, where no one had known he was coming except his family and the two Wilcoxes, then he was vulnerable anywhere, and it wouldn't much matter if he was here or back home. Just as strong precautions had likely been taken here as back home. The main threat were the Sandbloods, and there was no way they could get him here, was there? And the Sandbloods were the main threat, but was there another?

This wasn't the time to be worrying about it. He would rather live his life out to the fullest, despite being in danger, than sit around forever at home where he was safe.

"Albus Potter?"

A broad-shouldered Indian girl walked towards them, and smiled. "Albus Potter!" she said. "It _is_ you—I thought I recognized your face from somewhere! Welcome!"

"Thank you," said Albus, smiling back. "It's good to be here!"

"My name is Shya," she said. "I heard that you climbed Mount Solaeris just some months ago! My little brother works there as a rescuer. His name is Sid… I don't know if you met him?"

"Well… I don't think so," said Albus apologetically. "I might have seen him, but I was in a bit too much of a hurry for introductions…"

"That's right," said Shya. "You had a run-in with the devil, did you not?"

"Not _quite_ the devil, but pretty close," laughed Albus.

"The people here at Camatkara worship you," said Shya. "Especially after your visit here to vanquish Herpo the Foul. My roommate has a shrine dedicated to you—would you like to see?"

"Er…"

"Oh, but even if you don't visit our room, you _have_ to meet her," said Shya. "Or rather, she _has_ to meet _you._ She will probably pass out. I will send her a message!"

Shya raised her wand, and a ribbon streamed out the end; it flew towards the other side of the room, where it stopped in front of a distant table of girls and twisted itself into unfamiliar letters and characters.

"How long is your stay?" asked Shya.

"Er—today and tomorrow morning," said Albus.

"Oh, that's plenty of time for you to see the shrine!" said Shya excitedly.

Wilcox laughed and started to cough; he directed his wand at his throat to clear it just as a piercing shriek tore through the room.

Albus reached for his wand instinctively, and Wilcox aimed his wand which was already out when he'd cleared his throat. But it wasn't a shriek of someone in danger… It was the shriek of someone who'd noticed Albus. The girl who was apparently Shya's roommate was shoving people to the ground to get to him.

"This is going to be a long couple of weeks," mumbled Albus.

Exo bumped his shoulder against Albus's. "Could be worse. You could be _hated_ in every country."

"It'd probably still be less people running at me while foaming at the mouth," said Albus, bracing for impact as Shya's roommate practically leapt at him.

O

Two days and five hundred or so autographs later, their stay at Camatkara was over. They had seen some amazing works of magic, of which Albus's favorite was the lake at noon. When the sun beamed down directly on the lake, and the water received the light that it so often lacked due to the cliffs that sheltered it, every color of the rainbow was visible in the water, dancing around in swirls.

They left early in the morning to head to Muxiao, the most famous school of magic in China. The school itself was clearly much less concerned with spectacle and more about study, but they had put together a greeting for the three visitors which was so grand and stunning that one would have thought they were greeting a group of world leaders. With beautiful music, elaborate dance, and magical moving artwork, the reception made Albus feel like he was ten times the celebrity he'd ever felt. Despite their focus on strict curricula and performance on standardized examinations, they certainly knew how to put on a stellar show at Muxiao.

From there, they jumped to the Mahoutokoro School of Magic two days later, and spent some time in a very different setting. Mahoutokoro was the most relaxing region that Albus had ever visited. It was situated in an enormous grove of all sorts of trees, but mostly cherry. Pink petals drifted down all around them wherever they walked. The school must have timed cherry season to coincide with the first week of school to make everything as beautiful as possible for the arrival and return of students. Mahoutokoro, like Muxiao, taught an age range similar to that of Hogwarts, except that Mahoutokoro started a year later at the age of twelve, and Muxiao began a year early at the age of ten. They were both seven-year schools, though.

From the beginning of their journey, Albus had begun to notice small details about the schools that were very similar to Hogwarts. For example, Muxiao had midyear exams, which Wilcox had tried out in his first year. Those hadn't gone over well with the students, and Wilcox had redacted them. Camatkara had a club for practicing self-defense, which sounded very similar to the Defense Association in Hogwarts. Then, upon a few questions in their visit to Mahoutokoro, Albus discovered that the school had a mentoring program that paired older students with younger students in the exact same fashion as Wilcox had done in Hogwarts. He began to realize that these weren't random; Wilcox had taken hints from all of the schools he'd visited over the years, and tried out what he thought might work in Hogwarts. The failures, he took out, like the midyear exams, but the mentoring program had worked very well. Albus had a massive newfound appreciation for all the work their headmaster had done for their school.

In the morning after their second day visiting Mahoutokoro, they traveled to the Bruxa River Institute of Brazil. Funnily enough, they arrived in South America on the afternoon of the previous day, due to crossing the International Date Line. In reality, their trip was two weeks long—two days at each of the seven schools—but the trip backwards in time made it thirteen days, which Albus hoped wouldn't be bad luck. Superstition based on the number thirteen wasn't unfounded, as he'd heard explained in Arithmancy and heard screamed in Divination.

"Hello, Headmaster Wilcox!" greeted the Headmaster of the Bruxa River Institute. He had a frazzled look that Albus had only seen on people who'd been trying to rein in a particularly rambunctious toddler; Albus wondered what was going on.

"Hello, Headmaster Bomar," said Wilcox. "How are things?"

Bomar snorted and rolled his eyes.

"What's that look for?" asked Wilcox with concern.

"Zombies again," sighed Bomar.

Albus glanced over to Exo. Despite the dangers lurking in the Forbidden Forest, he was glad he didn't go to a school where an exasperated look was explained not only by "zombies," but by "zombies, _again._"

"Zombies?" said Wilcox. "I thought—"

"—that extensive preventative measures were in place, and had been in place for quite some time with proven results?" grumbled Bomar. "Yes, then you thought correctly. But farmers near the school are getting torn apart in their fields at night. It's clearly zombies, but even if it was… Not only should our efforts be preventing them from expanding their numbers, but these people should _know_ better, too! We can only protect our people so much! If they go wandering _into_ a zombie—zombies aren't that smart or fast, it's not like they're a real threat, especially not in a flat field where you can see them coming from miles away—if they're going to walk _into_ the zombie then there's nothing we can do, and we really shouldn't be taking the blame for this!"

Bomar looked like he'd been dying to get this rant off his chest to someone for a while now.

"I just came out of a meeting," said Bomar, shaking his head. "They're talking about shutting down the school. Really? All we need to do is build a moat and the zombies will just fall in and drown. Shut down the school? Preposterous…"

Albus was somewhat listening, but more of his energy was directed with fascination at what perfect English all of the Headmasters and Headmistresses spoke, while he could barely speak even a few words in other languages.

"I'd… er… like to learn more about this," said Wilcox, glancing back at the two boys, "but, for now…"

"Yes, yes, I shall show them the premises," said Bomar irritably. "My apologies for my temperament. It's just that if I hear one more idiot say something idiotic, I might just snap." He looked over to Albus and Exo as well. "_Ola._"

"_Buenos Dias,_" said Albus proudly, trying to impress Bomar.

"It's Portuguese in Brazil," muttered Wilcox out of the corner of his mouth. "Not Spanish."

"But he said _Hola,_" mumbled Albus back to Wilcox.

"Similar-sounding hello," said Wilcox. "Different language."

Bomar's eye twitched; Albus grimaced.

Their stay at the Bruxa River Institute was more pleasant than he'd expected, though. The students of the school were much more amiable than their headmaster, and though most of them didn't speak quite as fluent English, they greatly enjoyed conversation. Albus found that the Bruxa River Institute and the Molstraem Magical Academy of Canada had a consistent exchange program—another page of a book Wilcox had borrowed from another school.

Wilcox was harried by Bomar for seemingly the entire duration of their stay, apart from sleep. Bomar complained about the people complaining about the zombies at every chance he could squeeze out.

"I mean—these are people who live in an area known to be populated with zombies!" cried Bomar as they were heading out to leave. "What are they doing walking up to the zombies and leaning their necks out?!"

"I don't know!" burst Wilcox, his patience finally wearing slightly thin. "Maybe it's not even zombies!"

Bomar was taken aback.

"Well—I mean—it's all the signs of zombies," said Bomar. "Eviscerated. Mauled first and with little care for actually eating the flesh—"

"Okay, then maybe the zombies have help," said Wilcox, throwing his hands up. "Someone who's using mind control to make people walk right up to the zombies. I really don't know, Bomar. I obviously have far less information than you and am therefore far less likely to come up with the correct logical explanation for what's happening here. Just let me know if you really need help with the problem, okay? I'll see what I can do once I've gotten the boys back."

"Well, thank you, Helio," sighed Bomar. "I just… I don't know what to do. Some days I just want to quit while I'm neither ahead nor behind…"

"I'll come back some time, briefly, when I can," said Wilcox, patting Bomar on the shoulder. Hang in there and I'll give you a pep talk sometime. All right?"

"All right," said Bomar. "Have a nice trip."

He walked in front of them, and opened the door to the outside. It wasn't the same door from which they'd entered, though—it led to a different part of the Bruxa River than they had used to arrive. Here, there was a swirling whirlpool splitting off to the side facing the door.

"Pick a raft, and have fun," said Bomar, gesturing to a large stockpile of inflatable rafts to the side. "I'll see you sometime soon, Professor Wilcox."

"Indeed," said Wilcox. "Come on, boys!"

"We're taking a raft… into the whirlpool?" asked Albus skeptically, before remembering that the Molstraem Magical Academy and the Bruxa River Institute were connected by whirlpool, with instant travel between the two—a technology that had not yet been replicated.

"That is in fact exactly what we are doing," said Wilcox. "Not nervous, are you? Actually, you don't even really need a raft… you can go in without one if you want. The rafts are available more to calm the nerves of the more terrified travelers."

"Yes," said Exo, "because the raft makes diving into a raging whirlpool so much less dangerous."

"The second you go below the surface, you wind up _above_ the surface in Molstraem," said Wilcox. "Nothing to worry about… go on, then!"

Albus took one of the inflatable rafts and, against his better judgment, dove onto the waves, gripping the handles tightly and holding the raft against his stomach. He soared around the edge of the whirlpool, spiraling further and further towards the center, until he was suddenly plucked under the water in a motion that reminded him of a human swallowing. Without a drop of water clinging to him, he suddenly broke the surface of the water in a calm pool of a much milder climate. Even though it was winter at the Bruxa River Institute, it was in a tropical climate close to the equator; here was the omnipresent mild ocean breeze that belonged to an island perched on high cliffs above the sea. The Molstraem Academy, the tallest buildings of which he could see towering in the shape of castles above the calm pool as Exo and his father splashed up alongside him, occupied most of the small island on which it was situated. As soon as all three of them climbed out of the pool with their rafts, it suddenly whipped up into a whirlpool behind them.

Molstraem was a school for both younger and older students, just like Katarina Pinzel. Professor Evranote, their Diwandology teacher, did some research here part-time in working towards her Genie's Degree. She had been studying portals… This seemed like a good place to study them, given that they had a working portal in their backyard.

It was the first school they had visited where the native language was English, but a fair number of students were bilingual in French. Some were bilingual in Portuguese, as they had gone to Molstraem from the exchange program with the Bruxa River Institute, just as Albus had seen some Canadians at Bruxa River.

One of the things that Albus found most fascinating about Molstraem was its Muggle Studies program. Not only could one take up to six different Muggle Studies classes in the third through fifth year, but you could take _exclusively_ Muggle Studies classes after the O.W.L. equivalents in Canada. There was an entire program dedicated to finding ways to improve the lives of Muggles without turning the relationship between Muggles and wizards into a dependency, such as better methods for farming and agriculture, and creating medicines for Muggle diseases that Muggles couldn't.

Next, they ventured down the east coast of North America to Hextus Horra in West Virginia. Albus had heard bad things about the reputation of this school—one piece of gossip in particular that said Hextus Horra was essentially the Slytherin of America—but the horror stories were not what he found there. There was a very welcoming population, and the school had such a pleasant atmosphere that he couldn't imagine anything bad happening there. In addition, about as many people asked for his autograph there as in Camatkara.

"Hello, Headmaster Wilcox," said a middle-aged woman when they were greeted. She did an awkward half-bow, half-curtsy, and then laughed at her own clumsiness as she stood back up.

"Megan?" asked Wilcox, looking around. "And where is Principal Meriwether?"

"Extremely sick, I'm afraid," said Megan. "Excuse me—I'm very new to all this administrative stuff. Usually my position is just a title I can boast around and not have to take any responsibility for… We're hoping Meriwether's health will improve, but until then, I've got to take charge of… well, everything."

"Boys, this is Vice Principal Crim," said Wilcox. "How are things, Megan?"

"All right," said Megan, yawning. "Well… not really. I've been too busy, so I've had to bring someone in to fill in for my Potions classes so far, and she's this hotshot new teacher whom all the kids love even better than me—"

"Oh, I'm sure that's not true—"

"—so as soon as Meriwether gets better, I'm either going to be hated for kicking her out, or else I leave her there and I'm out of a job," said Megan. "No Potions openings at Hogwarts, are there?"

"No, Professor Valon is alive and kicking," said Wilcox, smiling. "Sorry?"

"No need to apologize, it's not like it's a bad thing that Valon isn't like to drop dead," said Megan, shrugging. "That's the life of an educator, though. I'll just look around for another job… if I have the time."

"You sound so certain that you'll have to leave," said Wilcox. "You never know what's going to happen. Don't stress out about that now—you're a Headmistress, essentially, and believe me, you're going to have enough stress as it is without worrying about all that extra nonsense."

"Oh, I know," said Megan, huffing. "One of our students already went _missing_ this year. A second year student, trying to play hide-and-seek in the mountains with his buddies. Either he's way too good at this game, or he's gone. We've sent out nine search parties in the last four days and they've found no trace of him."

Wilcox's face fell; losing a student had to be every Headmaster's worst nightmare. Wilcox couldn't even say anything in consolation; he looked like he needed some consolation himself.

"There's some really awfully strange things going on here," said Megan. "The indicator plants are going wild."

"They _are?_" asked Wilcox, stunned. "Why haven't I been informed?"

"It just started last week," said Megan. "Now, that could mean there's Dark magic going on _anywhere_ in the world, but I smell something fishy here, too."

"You don't think this has anything to do with Meriwether's illness, do you?"

Megan was taken aback. "What? I—no! At least—oh, Merlin, I hope not. There's just… an unsettling air settling in everywhere, if you know what I mean."

"Well, let's hope not," said Wilcox, eyeing her carefully. "Good luck with everything, Megan. I've been here enough times—I can give the boys the tour, you have other things to worry about."

"Thank you, Helio," said Megan, bowing her head to him and then shuffling away.

Wilcox led the boys down through a hallway full of large classrooms, but he continued to eye Megan Crim as she left.

"Well, I was considering jumping back to Rhode Island for a couple of hours just to drop in at Rahul's cousin's wedding," said Wilcox, "but I'd rather not leave you alone here, if the Vice Principal is…"

"Murderous?" asked Exo.

"I was going to say, 'nervous about the school's safety,'" said Wilcox, declining to pursue the topic.

"This really is the Slytherin of America," said Exo, looking about.

Wilcox looked down at him. "And what exactly does _that_ mean?" said their Headmaster (whom Albus remembered was a Slytherin), sounding affronted.

"Well, come on, Dad," said Exo, twisting his mouth around. "All the worst wizards from Hogwarts have been Slytherins—"

"Peter Pettigrew, Gryffindor," said Wilcox defensively. "Quirinus Quirrell and Gilderoy Lockhart, Ravenclaw!"

"Yeah, and like a hundred from Slytherin," said Exo. "Of _course_ there are good people from Slytherin, just like there's bad people from other houses. But Slytherin has always kind of… had this sort of… unsettling air, like Megan said."

"That's absurd," said Wilcox, shaking his head. "The only reason there's a haze surrounding Slytherin House is that there are too many people in the other Houses who refuse to let it go. It's really not an issue anymore. Even the kids from the strictest pure-blood-crazy families learn the error of their ways eventually. You remember Red Pierce? He's been anti-Muggle since he could learn to talk… so has his whole family."

"Of course we remember him," said Albus. "What about him?"

"He sucked it up," said Wilcox, smiling. "Last year he publicly renounced his mother's crazy pure-blood views, and he apologized to everyone whom he thought he might have hurt."

"Um, _what?_" coughed Albus.

"You've got to be joking," said Exo.

"I'm not, in fact," said Wilcox. "He went to Madam Duopold, whom I guess is an old family friend, for what was essentially therapy, as Dottie told me later. He's really turned around and changed. He did phenomenally well in all of his classes and even stood up to some of his classmates who were still bigoted. In fact, I made him Head Boy this year."

"You _what?!_" blurted Albus, so loudly that every student in the hallway turned to look at them.

"Quiet, Albus, there are classes in session," said Wilcox. "And yes, I did. He's a shining example to his peers—what happened to him is exactly what always happens when you open up your mind! He accepts and tolerates everyone. He's not looking for trouble anymore—I know he and his brother used to harass you and James and Lily. But he's managed to crawl out of that, even though he was born into a family with some really awful ideologies. It's actually quite inspiring!"

"I don't buy it," said Albus, shaking his head. "He's up to something."

"He's up to _date,_" said Wilcox. "Everyone who's still mired in those disgusting blood purity notions of the past needs to follow his example, and that's why I've made him Head Boy. I don't want to hear another word against him until you've talked with him, and seen and heard for yourself. I highly recommend you do make amends with him. You'll be shocked and surprised—and I mean that in a _positive_ fashion, Albus, don't give me that face! This is highly unfair of you."

Albus shook his head; there was no way that Pierce had reformed. This was a ruse. To do what, he didn't know—maybe to get Head Boy? But Pierce didn't seem like the type of person to even want that honor. There was something else going on.

After two days at Hextus Horra, they were ready to depart for Fawdvelle. Wilcox brought the boys outside in the very early morning to go find the forest pool where they had entered with the Liner, and where they were planning on exiting as well. Megan Crim was supposed to escort them later that morning, but Wilcox was eager to leave, and he left a note in their lodging to let her know they had already gone.

The sun was barely peeking over the horizon as Albus yawned and rubbed his eyes. "It wasn't _too_ far into the forest, was it?" he asked Wilcox. "I don't fancy being out here very long, considering that someone went missing…"

"The school has defenses against intruders, even animal intruders," said Wilcox. "I think it's more likely that that poor boy simply got lost, and wandered too far… As long as you stay with me, we'll be fine."

Albus had heard that he'll "be fine" a few times too many.

Every rustle in the bushes, no matter how small the bird or mouse, caused him to leap into the air with his wand out. But although the walk felt like it took forever, only about two minutes total actually passed before the forest pool came into view. The mountainside on which Hextus Horra resided, cut into the rocky slopes so that no Muggles could find it, had much beautiful scenery. But this forest pool, so clean and clear, took the cake for natural beauty.

Wilcox stepped forward to the edge of the pool and held out his wand to tap on the surface. He leaned down to the ground.

"Don't leave!"

Wilcox's head whipped around.

"Did one of you say that?" he asked cautiously.

"No," said Albus, growing nervous again.

"Not me," said Exo, looking over his shoulder.

"Come play with us," said a voice from just behind the nearest trees.

The hairs on the back of Albus's neck tingled, and slowly began standing up.

A skinny young boy stepped out from behind the trees, wearing a drab-colored gray shirt and brown trousers. His skin was somewhat dark, and was remarkably clean, without any visible marks or blemishes. His eyes were overly large, as was his forehead; his black hair lay so perfectly across the top of his head that it looked like plastic. He tilted his head and smiled a dazzlingly white smile as he rocked back and forth on his heels and toes, his hands clasped behind his back.

"Come play with us," he repeated.

"Is that the little boy that disappeared?" whispered Exo.

Wilcox quickly tapped three times on the surface of the water, and then stepped forward, pushing Albus and Exo behind him.

"No, don't leave," said the little boy. "Come play with us!"

"Please?" asked another small voice, this one higher-pitched and tinnier. A little girl peered out from behind another nearby tree, smiling with just the very corner of her mouth.

Albus felt a weird nudging inside his head, like something was working its way into his brain, and cold panic flooded forth through him.

Exo started walking towards them.

"No!" shouted Albus. "Exo, come back—no!"

Wilcox shot an arm out and seized Exo's collar; Exo started yowling and gnawing at his father's arm. Albus raised a wand and pointed it towards the children, still fighting off the mental assault.

"You don't want to play with us?" said the boy in front.

All cutesiness was gone from his voice. The accusation he had let loose was suddenly dripping with malice, and the boy's calm features curled up angrily. He was morphing before their eyes—his skin was growing more ashen, his fingers and fingernails were elongating to twice their length, as were his toes and toenails, bursting through his shoes, and his eyes were beginning to glow bright red—

"We'll come back to play with you later," said Wilcox calmly. "Tomorrow morning we'll be right in this same spot, waiting for you! But first we have to go home to get some playthings." He reached into his robe with the free hand that wasn't restraining Exo. Out of the corner of his eye, Albus saw him cast a quick spell; he pulled out a small Frisbee that he must have just conjured right then. He tossed the Frisbee at the boy, where it rolled to a stop at his feet. "But, we brought you this in the meantime!"

The boy suddenly snapped back into his initial adorable state, and grinned widely at them. "Okay!" he said, leaning down and picking up the Frisbee. "Come play with us later! Thank you for the Frisbee!"

He skipped away, humming to himself; the girl giggled and followed him.

The calm water of the forest pool rippled and the ground rumbled; the Loch Stock Liner burst up behind them.

"What the _living bloody hell_ just happened?" whispered Albus as Exo shook his head clear and moaned.

"Kinderaiths," said Wilcox. "Come on. Let's get out of here, pronto."

"You don't need to tell me again," murmured Albus, turning around. Not bothering with the ladder, he cast _Salimotor_ on himself and jumped right onto the deck, but his shoes were slick with the morning dew on which he'd been treading, and his feet flew out under him when he landed; he crashed down on his back.

"Whoa, there, Albus Potter!" laughed Salvo. "You all right? You're earlier than you told us to expect you!"

"Well, we wanted to leave as soon as possible," said Wilcox, climbing up the ladder after Exo, "a sentiment which has only been immeasurably reinforced by the last few seconds…"

"Come again, Professor Wilcox?"

"Kinderaiths," said Wilcox, pointing at the trees. "Ten seconds ago. No less."

"You're shitting me," said Salvo. "They haven't been around since…"

"I know," said Wilcox. "Get us out of here, now. We don't want them coming back."

"Don't let _them_ hear you say that," warned Salvo. "Sailors! Submerge immediately after they enter the cabins!"

The trio entered the cabins hastily, and Milo greeted them heartily as the Liner submerged; Alec's internship had ended, seeing as the school year at Hogwarts had already begun. His twiggy mustache drooped as Wilcox explained what had happened.

"Well, no wonder we're already under again," said Milo, looking very worried. "Thank goodness you escaped, you would have been torn apart! Helio, how on Earth did you ward them off while holding the kids back?"

"Albus was strong enough to hold his mental ground," said Wilcox, looking down proudly at Albus. "That was a task even beyond many of the Aurors during the Dark Revival." He raised his wand and sent out a Patronus, presumably to warn Megan Crim.

"The Dark Revival?" asked Albus.

"Yes," said Milo. "Gallen Ingot invented these creatures. Cross-bred them from various sources. But we thought we'd exterminated them…"

"We did," said Wilcox. "Someone's bringing them back. And in _America,_ no less. I have no idea what's going on, but it's not good."

A little under an hour later, they surfaced on a beach; in response to their arrival, a magnificent sand castle rose into the air, shaping itself as it ascended. Wilcox led the boys through the open front gate, and as they stepped into the castle, they were led down a tunnel that opened up into a magnificent underground community. Fawdvelle was a school in the very center of the enormous campus, which appeared to be a city of its own.

Fawdvelle was very similar to Hogwarts—Albus got the strong feeling that the Founders of Fawdvelle had based their school off of Hogwarts. But he was having a harder time taking in this scenery than he had taking in the others.

Those creatures—Kinderaiths, as Wilcox had called them—they were roaming free around Hextus Horra, and had escaped detection from extensive security measures? And Milo had said they'd be torn apart if the Kinderaiths had gotten them… That sounded familiar. Is this what had been happening in the Bruxa River Institute, which had been mistaken for zombie attacks?

No matter where he went in the world, it wasn't safe. Even halfway around the world, he had almost gotten killed. As exquisite and entertaining as his trip abroad had been, he was very happy to be headed back to Hogwarts soon, where at least his death was slightly less imminent than it was everywhere else.

* * *

_**Last chapter, most people by far guessed "E," the most common letter in the English language (as some of you mentioned when you guessed,) and in fact there is one "E" in the title!**_

_****__**ALBUS POTTER AND THE _._._._._._._ _._._._.E._**_

_****__**I tried to create a system to make a body part for each wrong letter guessed like in real hangman, but you can only do so much in text. It looked like this:**_

_****__**O 1  
+ 2  
^ 3**_

_****__**Annoyingly, the + and the ^ won't stay there unless there's another letter or number in the line with it (hence the 1, 2, 3 there). I also can't put more than one space in between anything, so it looks really cramped. I just decided to go without that. Maybe I'll make a little Microsoft Paint hangman thing and set it as my profile picture. I'll let you know if I do that.**_

_****__**Anyway, leave your guess for the next letter in your review!**_


	4. The Blood Bandits

CHAPTER FOUR

THE BLOOD BANDITS

O

"Before you go, Professor Wilcox," said Headmistress Rillian of Fawdvelle, "would the two boys like to be unofficially Sorted into their Fawdvelle Houses?"

"Oh, that sounds like fun!" said Exo, grinning. "Ever since I heard of Fawdvelle, I wondered what House I'd have been in…"

Albus shrugged. He recalled Rose's disdain for the Sorting method that Fawdvelle used, and he couldn't help but agree with her. It was also hard to be excited about anything when they were leaving at about five in the morning.

Instead of the Sorting Hat, Fawdvelle used the Sorting Glasses. The Sorting Glasses weren't alive like the Sorting Hat; an unbiased judge had to come in to Sort the students based on what colors the judge saw through the Sorting Glasses. The five Founders of Fawdvelle had based their school off of Hogwarts, but the students that each Founder selected was not based on personality traits or heritage like Hogwarts. Instead, it was based off of specialty in ability. The House of Relougus was for students who excelled at Transfiguration; Kaitcha was for Charms; Yazmorn was for Potions; Oakwend was for the care of magical life, like Herbology and Care of Magical Creatures; and Weidien was for duelists and the American equivalent of Defense Against the Dark Arts. But if you were too well-rounded, or if your skills lay elsewhere, like Arithmancy, you wouldn't be Sorted into a House—you'd be sent to a different school.

Even though Albus didn't have anything to worry about—it wasn't like they were going to be mad if he wasn't Sorted—he still felt a little nervous as Rillian put on the bejeweled Sorting Glasses and took out a small slip of paper.

"This is some hair from all of the Founders," said Rillian, waving the paper in front of them; indeed, several locks of hair were fused onto five different sections of the paper. "This is how we determine what colors mean which Founder! Since it's rarely the same judge as the previous few years, we have to have a cheat sheet for what the colors mean, so that the judges know what they're doing and don't make any mistakes."

She peered closely at Albus, and worked her jaw around.

"Hm," she said, smirking.

_Does "Hm" mean I'm not Sorted?_ thought Albus worriedly.

"Hm," she said again. "Well, uh, you're a difficult one." She consulted her cheat sheet, and though it couldn't have mattered less, Albus still found himself starting to sweat. "You're, like, very faintly colored… so I'd say you're pretty well-rounded… but you're close enough to be sorted somewhere. I just, um, can't tell whether it's Weidien or… no, it's Yazmorn, it's definitely Yazmorn. You're definitely a Yazmorn boy!"

"Well, well," said Wilcox, smiling. "I'll have to tell Professor Valon. He'll be very proud!"

"Your son, though," said Rillian, working her jaw around as she stared at Exo. "I don't know… I'm not sure he'd be Sorted."

Exo blushed furiously and turned his head away.

"Careful, my boy," said Rillian. "I sense in you a strong affinity for Dark magic. Be very cautious of where you lay your allegiances."

Exo stared at her with a look of utter disbelief; Albus stared at Exo with the same look.

"Er… thank you, Maybelline," said Wilcox, tugging on Exo's shirt. "I… think we'd best be headed off now…"

"Sorry, did I frighten you?" said Rillian, taking the Sorting Glasses off. "I didn't mean to concern you! That's just… that's the color that we normally see when… That doesn't mean you'll be drawn to the Dark Arts! It just means that you might… um, be drawn to the Dark Arts, I guess. Just resist it, okay? No matter how attractive they may—"

"_Thank_ you, Maybelline," said Wilcox, more forcefully. "I'll visit you again sometime soon. Have a good year."

"You too, uh, and thank you for visiting," said Rillian. "Thank you for coming, Albus and Exorian! Have a good year."

"Thanks," said Albus, nudging Exo to get him moving.

They crossed to a nearby marsh, where they summoned the Loch Stock Liner again. They boarded and headed off to Hogwarts.

"I have an affinity for the Dark Arts?" said Exo dumbly. "What does _that_ mean?"

"Don't know," said Albus, shrugging, "but does it really matter? You're a Gryffindor, aren't you? And we know what _that_ means."

Exo sighed and looked out the window at the Blicks whizzing past them in Digher Straits, his brown eyes scanning the dark void outside. Albus idly wondered if he'd inherited any proclivity for the Dark Arts from his mother, who had betrayed her family to aid Gallen Ingot and had gotten herself killed.

The trip was longer than most, or maybe it only seemed that way because they were finally returning to Hogwarts. The Liner surfaced in the Black Lake, and Wilcox handed Albus and Exo small cups of potion to help them adjust to the time difference one last time. They strolled out of the Loch Stock Liner.

"I might not see you troublemakers again for a while, so stay safe!" called Milo as they left.

Albus turned around right before getting off. "Oh, hey, Milo? I was wondering something…"

"Wonder fast, we've got a schedule to keep," said Milo, nodding and gesturing for Albus to continue.

"Have you seen the Loch Stock Stalker lately? Any ideas on what it could be?"

"No ideas," said Milo, shaking his head. "The mystery has plagued the Liner's crew ever since the Liner was first built and we're no closer to knowing what it is than we were back then. But actually, no, we haven't seen it around lately! Although we usually see it at _least_ a few times every month, we haven't even sensed it at all, anywhere, in this entire past year. Mysterious, eh?"

"And I love new mysteries popping up," said Albus, rolling his eyes and climbing down the ladder.

"Have a good one, Albus Potter! Exorian Wilcox! Helio Wilcox! Hope nothing angry and lethal attacks the school!"

"Way to jinx it, Milo" said Exo as Albus splashed down right next to the shoreline.

They arrived in Hogwarts in the late morning due to the time change, just in time for History of Magic for the Gryffindors; Albus and Exo were not pleased. Mondays in general looked awful on Albus's schedule: first, Divination; then Care of Magical Creatures, which Uncle Charlie was no longer teaching. He'd returned to Romania to continue working with dragons, as he'd wanted to do for some time, because he'd finally found Wilcox a replacement: Dr. Tyco Brewer, who had in fact graduated from Fawdvelle, the school from which Albus and Exo had just departed. According to the Gryffindors and Ravenclaws who had been there for Professor Brewer's first class, he was nowhere near as great as Professor Weasley.

Following Care of Magical Creatures on Monday's schedule came History of Magic. After that was Charms, which Albus used to enjoy much more before the previous year; but Professor Plinky had been devastated by the death of his good friend Professor Westerling, and a lot of the joy had been sucked out of his life. Albus wasn't sure what to expect from Professor Plinky this year. Maybe he would be better about it now, but last year he hadn't even wanted to take up any of the responsibilities of Head of Hufflepuff House… It was too symbolic. Professor Plinky had known that him taking up the mantle of Head of House would truly mean that Professor Westerling was gone, and so he avoided fulfilling a lot of duties. The Hufflepuffs had gone to other teachers for career advising, and Plinky's teaching had suffered greatly as well. Albus hoped Professor Plinky's demeanor would improve… As someone who had witnessed a lot of death firsthand, he knew it was hard, but he also knew very well that the easiest way to deal with it was to simply accept it. He had hoped an adult would know this, but he also couldn't blame Professor Plinky for feeling the way he did about it.

Then, after Charms was Transfiguration. Albus wasn't sure what to expect from Professor Desulgon this year, either—he hadn't taught nearly as effectively as previous years, either. He always seemed distracted by something last year; perhaps he was affected by Professor Westerling's death just as strongly, but not quite as outwardly…

Following Transfiguration was Defense Against the Dark Arts with Professor Auchland, and Albus knew _exactly_ what to expect from _that_ class. He was furious at Wilcox for letting Auchland stay and not finding a replacement, but better Auchland here than as Head Auror, he supposed.

Diwand Spells would have finished off his Monday, but he had Astronomy at midnight; now that he'd entered his sixth year, Astronomy was held later at night for some reason. Professor Obbin was an amusing individual, but a somewhat dull teacher. Then again, there wasn't much interest to be found in staring at the stars weekly for the sixth year in a row, so he couldn't really blame the teacher.

He dreaded Hogwarts becoming a routine that he had to drag himself through, and he hoped that his mood—and the mood in the whole castle—would improve. But toxic stains on humanity like Auchland had a way of poisoning the entire school environment.

"Take a page out of your uncle's book," said Exo under his breath, sitting next to Albus in the back of the class while Binns was droning on about yet _another_ goblin rebellion. "Torture Auchland until he's run out of the school. Like they did to Umbridge."

"That's not a bad idea," said Albus, smirking.

"You want some help with that?" asked a soft voice from behind them.

Albus, Exo, and Alec turned around; sitting at the very back of the room, they hadn't thought anyone was behind them. But of course there was someone there—Litinia grinned at them from her portrait.

"You want to help us run Auchland out of the school?" asked Alec quietly.

"I have a few ideas," whispered Litinia, smiling as widely as Albus had ever seen her. "Don't worry. All the portraits hate him just as much as you all do. I don't know if you'll be able to _quite_ run him out of the school… But we can make his life a living hell if you'd like."

"_If we'd like?_" laughed Albus. "That's a joke, right?"

"Floo flower seeds are my favorite," said Litinia. "They're small enough that they're hardly noticed. Tuck a good number of them into his belongings, and the seeds will teleport somewhere randomly around the world, taking his stuff with them."

"Wow," laughed Alec. "They really do that?"

"They sure do," said Litinia. "I love Floo flowers; I wrote a lot of research on them before I became a teacher here. Also, if you leave a few fully grown plants in Auchland's office overnight and give them an Engorgement Charm, his office will be completely covered by the roots by morning… I'll give you a few tips on how to prevent the Floo Flowers from vanishing, too, so he'd have to get rid of all the plants himself."

"Is there any way to teleport _Auchland_ somewhere else?" asked Alec excitedly.

"Besides knocking him over the head and throwing him into a fireplace, I can't think of anything," said Litinia.

"That still works," said Alec.

"Mr. Kinney?" said Professor Binns at the front. "Pay attention, please…"

"No thank you," said Alec politely.

Binns stared at him for a moment, and then shrugged and kept on droning.

"By the way," said Alec, turning to Albus and Exo, "did you hear about Gad's mum?"

"No," said Albus, glancing with concern in the direction of Gadley Frasier, the male Ravenclaw prefect of their year. "What happened?"

"She got killed on her way back from a meeting of the Wizengamot," said Alec, his joking demeanor absent. "She was in the Wizengamot, you know? Anyway, he's been really feeling down lately… I wouldn't say anything around him about death, or mothers… you know, anything that might trigger it again."

"That's horrible," said Albus, clenching his fists tightly. This needed to stop.

"But there was something really weird that happened," said Alec, even more quietly. "Someone drained her _whole body_ of all its blood. Like they did to Geri Stenet, you know? Someone drained all _her_ blood away, too."

"That's… really weird," whispered Albus. "Is someone _collecting_ it? Like, is it a trophy or something? Or are they _using_ it for something?"

"I've heard of Dark rituals that require blood from a lot of different wizards," said Exo. "But I've never heard of anything that makes you need to drain an entire body's worth of blood, let alone more than one body…"

"Maybe they're just trying to make a show out of it," said Albus. "You know. Make a statement, like the Sandbloods tried to do by killing us. Obviously it's gotten people talking about it, so it's worked, if that's what they're doing…"

"Why, who's talking about it?" asked Alec.

"Us," said Exo.

"Oh. Right."

"And I doubt we're the only ones talking about it," said Albus. "They killed Geri Stenet and a member of the Wizengamot so far. Maybe others? Killian Aubrey went missing."

"Yeah, but he was a jackass," said Alec. "And didn't the Daily Prophet think he might have been working with the enemy?"

"My dad says that's not true," said Albus. "But I don't know what to believe."

"The Daily Prophet says that a lot of people think it's Muggles doing it," said Alec.

"What?" said Albus and Exo simultaneously; they looked at each other.

"People think the Muggles are collecting magical blood, and their scientologists are experimenting on it to see how magic works," said Alec.

"Scientists," corrected Rose, sitting nearby, whom Albus hadn't even noticed was listening. "Not scientologists. Very different."

"Sure, those," said Alec.

"People really think that Muggles are doing that?" asked Exo.

"Well, it's a bit misleading to say "Muggles are doing it," said Rose. "Not all Muggles are, you know, clamoring for their governments to start witch hunts again. But we think some Muggle governments, some secret organizations, some crazy people might be experimenting with magical blood."

"Maybe like a double-whammy," said Alec. "Someone kills a wizard or witch for their own reasons, and then drains their blood and sells it to scientology."

"Which is ridiculous," scoffed Rose. "Everyone knows that whole 'pure-blood' and 'Mudblood' stuff is crap. I don't know what they're expecting to find, but they're not going to actually find anything. People have been investigating the physical differences between Muggles and wizards for centuries and have found nothing. Muggle science is violated and temporarily invalidated every time any spell is cast. I don't see why they think they can explain what makes magic happen using science."

"Or maybe that's not actually what's happening," said Lucas, now leaning into the conversation. "It could be someone else using magic we've never heard of. Like Herpo the Foul? Albus was collecting unicorn blood for a rebirth potion last year… Maybe he's trying to make himself reborn again, but this time using wizard blood."

"That's rather unsettling," said Exo, shivering. "Unicorn blood is evil enough. I hope it's not Herpo."

"Me too," agreed Albus. "I'm hoping Herpo stays knocked down while we take care of the rest of the world so we can deal with him separately, later."

History of Magic ended, and as Albus walked to class with Rose and Lucas, he discussed his journey across the schools of the world.

"It was really interesting," said Albus. "I saw a lot of similarities—things that Wilcox borrowed from other schools, and some things that other schools borrowed from Hogwarts."

"Dad wanted to visit foreign Headmasters and Headmistresses," said Exo, "but he also wanted foreign students to meet students from here. He says it's never a bad thing."

"Anyone try to kill you?" asked Lucas.

"I don't think any _people_ did," said Albus, looking at Exo. "Unless those things counted as people?"

"If they were people once, they're certainly not people anymore," said Exo.

"What?" asked Rose and Lucas simultaneously.

"Kinderaiths," said Albus. "I still don't really know what they are, but whatever they are, they're back."

"Kinderaiths?" asked Rose. "I've read about those!"

"I haven't," said Lucas, looking shocked that there was a piece of information somewhere in the world that he didn't know about.

"They popped up during the Dark Revival," said Rose. "Gallen Ingot cross-bred them from a bunch of different stuff… Veelas, zombies, pogrebins, and dragons, I think were the biggest ones."

"Wow," chuckled Lucas. "That sounds absolutely horrifying."

"There were more, too," said Rose, grimacing. "I think there were like…"

She froze, stopping in the middle of the hallway.

"What?" asked Albus, turning around and stopping as well.

"Twenty-three different animals," she finished, raising her eyebrows.

"Twenty-three?" asked Exo. "Really? Are you sure about that?"

Albus's knees buckled, and he hit the floor, feeling like he was about to throw up.

"Whoa, there!" said Lucas, running forward and helping Albus back to his feet. "Are you okay?

"Fine," murmured Albus, clenching his stomach and trying to let the pain fade away. as the foot traffic started to flow around them.

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure it was twenty-three," said Rose, and they started walking again. "I didn't think that was significant or anything… I just thought it was Gallen Ingot's random assemblage of animal parts. But… I wonder. Hm."

"That number can't be coincidence," said Exo. "I mean, really. If there were four Devs and he used four animals, then that could easily be coincidence. But _twenty-three?_"

The more his friends talked about it, the sicker Albus became. He took a few deep, calming breaths while Lucas continued to ask if he was okay.

"So, when are we next going to storm the library to look this up and check for relations to the Devs?" asked Rose, looking around.

Albus dropped back down to the ground, landing on his rear, and he clutched a hand to his mouth.

"Are you all right, Potter?"

Albus looked up. Red Pierce was standing over him, his large Head Boy's badge gleaming incongruously on his chest.

Albus recoiled as Pierce held out a hand, and Pierce drew his hand back, like he was dealing with a potentially dangerous animal.

"Sorry," said Pierce, nodding. "I understand why you'd probably be hesitant to take my hand. Well… I just want you to know… I'm past all of that now, okay?"

"Excuse me?" said Albus, though he really didn't want Pierce to keep explaining. He scrambled to his feet by himself and backed away, staring loathingly at Pierce's expressionless face.

"I'm sorry, for anything you'd like me to be sorry for," said Pierce. "I moved on. Moved out of my mom's house. Moved forward to some more modern ideologies. I hope you can forgive me for what my family's done to yours… but I also understand if you can't."

"I honestly have no bloody clue what this charade is all about," said Albus lowly, "but you can be sure I will find out."

Pierce stared at him for a moment, unreadable, and then shook his head and walked away.

"You know, Albus," said Lucas tentatively, "when you just up and reject him instantly like that, you're descending to his level. Well, um, what his level used to be."

"I'm not buying it," said Albus. "When you start at a level as low as he did, you don't tend to crawl out of it… and _definitely _not that suddenly. Something's up."

"Albus, stop making mysteries out of nothing," said Rose. "Lucas is right. Maybe you should actually give him a chance."

"He's going to have to prove himself if he wants me to accept him as a good person now," said Albus. "It's only fair that he needs to be unfailingly pure-hearted for five full years in the same way that he was unfailingly shit-for-brains in the previous five. That's the only way for him to balance everything out. Shouldn't that be fair?"

Rose and Lucas both rolled their eyes.

"You can't honestly believe his 'transformation,'" scoffed Albus.

"Well, we don't," said Rose. "We're just giving him the chance anyway."

"And soft people like you are what he and his family have been preying on for years," said Albus. "I'm not becoming another head for him to step on. He hasn't changed for the better, he's just upped his game."

"Whatever you say," said Lucas.

"I agree with Albus," said Exo. "Something's fishy."

"Thank you," said Albus, glad that _someone_ was on his side.

They entered the Charms classroom. Immediately, Rose sat down right next to Aidan, and they greeted each other with a kiss on the lips.

Albus seized up for a moment in surprise. _This_ was new…

He turned to look at Exo, whose face was now tinged red-violet as he diverted his path from them, and sat down next to Jonah several seats away.

O

"Are you sure you can handle the stress of being Seeker again?" asked Roxanne, Gryffindor's new Quidditch Captain, as Albus lined up with a few other prospective Seekers, including Abbott Ashdown, a seventh year who had been second reserve every year since Albus was first reserve. "You currently have a one hundred percent rate of fainting during Quidditch matches."

"That's not fair," pouted Albus.

"All right, boys and girls!" called Roxanne, looking out to her crowd. "You know the drill. If you don't know the drill you'll figure it out fast! Seeker tryouts are first, and we'll be doing much the same method as we've done the past few—"

"Wait!" called several seventh-year girls, running towards them with ratty school brooms in their hands. "Wait for us!"

It was Charlotte Templeton, Tessa Taxton, and Jeniffer "Niffer" Davis, three of the girls who had been involved in the notorious Truth or Dare incident the previous year. They looked at Albus and giggled together, and Albus blushed and turned his face away from them.

"Come on, pull it together!" shouted Roxanne. "Ravenclaw's already got their team when we'd barely put together our tryout schedule!"

"Who's the Ravenclaw Seeker?" asked Abbott. "They just lost Kalina Moon, didn't they?"

"Some chick named Haley," said Roxanne. "Or Dolly… I think she's in your year, Albus?"

Albus's stomach dropped out. "Please—_please_ tell me it's not Holly Glissendale."

"That's the one. You know her?"

"I'm gonna need full-body armor for that one if I'm Seeker," he grumbled.

"Ah," said Roxanne, grinning. "An ex?"

Albus nodded with his head in his hands. "The craziest," he moaned, words muffled against his palm.

"Well, if flying around with someone you kissed is going to be a problem," said Lara Leigh, who was already on the team as a Chaser, "then I don't know how he'll do on the team the whole year, because I've kissed Albus Potter, too!"

She said it braggingly; Albus buried his face further in his hands.

"Oh, my God," huffed Roxanne. "Okay. How many people here have kissed Albus Potter?"

Lara, Charlotte, Niffer, and Tessa all raised their hands. A very pale-faced Abbott slowly raised his hand as well, looking traumatized.

Roxanne stared at Abbott, looked between him and Albus for a moment, and then threw her hands to the sky. "Well… sorry I asked."

Albus groaned. "It's not—"

"Ah-ah-ah-ah-ah! I don't want to know! Forget it. Albus, just get your arse in the sky before you start snogging someone else. You're up first."

Albus gladly took off into the air, and he silenced the jokes when he spanked the competition with his Seeker tryout performance. He was placed on the team without question. He was concerned, though, about the fact that he would be on the Quidditch team while taking all thirteen courses at the N.E.W.T. level—he had ended up sticking with all of them.

"That's all the positions filled!" said Roxanne when all the tryouts had concluded. "Our chasers are Jonah Baxter-Thornton, Palila Bell, and Lara Leigh… our Beaters are myself and Franklin Dunbar… our Keeper is Silva Brightstar again, way to go, kid! And our Seeker is another Potter. Sorry, Abbott, you came to Hogwarts at the wrong time… these brothers are just too damn good."

"I'm fine with pretending to be useful and not having a quarter of the school on my arse if I lose," said Abbott.

"We'll have a meeting tomorrow with the new team," said Roxanne. "First, though, Albus? Let's just fly over somewhere where I can talk to you alone before you leave… if you have time? This isn't Quidditch business, it's unofficial cousin-to-cousin stuff…"

"I have a little time before my Wandless Magic double period, yeah," said Albus.

"Good," said Roxanne. "Then all of you should skedaddle back to dinner or wherever you need to go. Excellent work, everybody, and I'll see everyone whose name I just called tomorrow!"

She motioned to Albus to follow her, and she took off on her broom; Albus followed on the new Sheerer 1440 he'd gotten for his birthday, but everything felt like molasses compared to the Solarbolt he'd ridden the previous spring.

"Okay," said Roxanne, touching down by the tree line of the Forbidden Forest, turning around to face him. She looked very serious. "Albus… did you have a little thing with Abbott or was that—"

"Oh, come _on,_" groaned Albus.

"—testing the waters?" finished Roxanne.

"No! No, I wasn't testing anything! There was this party last year, we were—"

"You hooked up at a party?"

"We didn't hook up!"

"Albus, I'm trying to be serious," said Roxanne, though she was clearly holding in a laugh. "I want to make sure my little cousin is completely comfortable with himself!"

"I am! And I'm very comfortable not being gay!"

"That's fine, but being bisexual is—"

"I'M NOT BISEXUAL EITHER!"

"Geez, calm down," said Roxanne. "It's okay if you are, we love you—"

"I'm _not!_"

"You don't have to get all defensive, it's not a _bad_ thing," said Roxanne.

"But I'm not!" blurted Albus. "So this conversation is pointless!"

"You know Lucy dated Alice Bloomsbury and Miriam Walker, right?"

"Why are we even—wait, what?"

"Yeah, Lucy's bisexual, too!"

"THERE IS NO 'TOO!' I'M PERFECTLY FINE WITHOUT BOYS!"

"Methinks you doth protest too—"

"Come play with me!"

Albus's head snapped around like the crack of a whip, and his heart launched into one hundred percent capacity in a fraction of a second.

He'd heard that before—just last week. It was a Kinderaith.

Instinctively, he seized Roxanne's arm; she flinched, but her eyes were drawn towards the trees, where the face of a young girl peered out at them from the shadows.

"Come play with me," she repeated.

Roxanne began stepping forward, but Albus yanked her back. Fear flooded back into him as the girl glared directly at him, already very unhappy because he pulled Roxanne away, and he felt the Kinderaith's mental power eating away at his mind, too.

He reached down swiftly and pulled Roxanne's broom up under her, then quickly cast a Leg-Locker Curse to secure the broom between her legs so that she couldn't jump or fall off of it. He grabbed his own broom and mounted it as the little girl's skin turned an ashen color and her jaw wrenched open to an inhuman degree. Her arms and fingernails elongated and she brandished them as she charged at them much faster than they could run—

Albus launched himself and Roxanne into the air, holding her arm tightly, and he flew them high into the air, desperately hoping that the Kinderaith couldn't fly. He should have asked Wilcox how he deflected them back at Hextus Horra… He threw a Frisbee towards it, and he said some things to it, but Albus couldn't remember them well enough to replicate it; nor did he have a Frisbee with him, and he wasn't skilled enough to Conjure one out of nothing yet. Though maybe it didn't have to be a Frisbee…

He flew Roxanne back to the castle, where she quickly regained control of her mind. She then started freaking out, losing her mind again without the Kinderaith's help. A few seventh-year Hufflepuffs were hanging around the entrance, and immediately rushed forward to help when they saw Roxanne looking so terrified; Albus left Roxanne with them because he had to run straight up to Wilcox, to tell him before someone who wasn't so resistant to mind magic stumbled upon the Kinderaiths. It was incredibly lucky he had run into them first, really—or _had_ he run into them first? Had someone else run across them before him, and gone missing like the boy who had gone missing at Hextus Horra?

He ran to the gargoyle in front of Wilcox's office, but realized he didn't know the password.

"Kinderaiths!" he blurted.

"Well shit," said the gargoyle, leaping aside.

Albus clambered up the spiral staircase until he reached the top, and knocked on Wilcox's door, completely out-of-breath but more from terror than exhaustion. Wilcox threw open the door and looked at Albus.

"Er, yes?" he asked, looking harried himself.

"Kinderaiths," breathed Albus. "At Hogwarts! Down by the edge of the Forbidden Forest—"

"I'm on it," said Wilcox, wasting no time; he ran down the stairs as well.

"Wait, Professor Wilcox!" called a very familiar voice; Uncle Percy, Minister for Magic, poked his head out of the Headmaster's Office. "Oh, hello, Albus! What's the deal, then?"

"Kinderaiths," said Albus, grimacing. "Here."

"Shit," said Uncle Percy, his eyes flying open.

"Yeah, that's what the gargoyle said," said Albus. "And what brings _you_ here?"

"More attacks," said Uncle Percy. "More blood stolen. We're ramping up security at Hogwarts… again."

Albus sighed. "Anyone we know?"

Uncle Percy yanked back his arm to reveal an enormous gash running up along one of his veins.

"Yes," he said, "I'd say so."

* * *

_**The letter A won by a landslide! And there happen to be two in there. So here's the current title of Book 7:**_

_**Albus Potter and the A._._._._.A._ _._._._.E._**_

_**Guess the next letter at the end of your review, but I will ask you to please leave more than just a letter in your review! I had to delete two guest reviews already who did that, and I don't like to silence people.**_

_**If you have a guess for the title, go ahead and guess it, but I'll only tell you if you get the whole thing, not just one word. If anyone guesses the whole thing at this point I'd be very impressed and I'll PM you to let you know that you're right (if you have an account). I actually wouldn't put it past someone to get the whole thing just from this, despite these two words not appearing in the story together...**_

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**EDIT: ON SATURDAY'S UPDATE**

**Something big just came up in my life. (Something fantastic, not something bad, so don't worry!) But it means I'm not getting around to the next chapter this weekend. I'll pick up the uploads on Wednesday as scheduled but I'm probably not going to be able to make up that missed chapter, especially since school starts for me again when September rolls around. If I can make it up in time, I'll post it. If not, I'm afraid I'll have to take this one day off. Sorry. But you'll live, I promise! It happens, and I need a freebie day for when things come up beyond my control, so please forgive me for one missed day! :)**


	5. The Next Level

_**I think this website might be acting a little screwy (a lot screwy). Hopefully that'll be cleared up before the next upload... Until then, if you're following the story, you can always just click the link to the chapter in the email the site sends when I upload a new chapter. If you're not following the story you can always Google it to see if I've uploaded. I think the search functions on the site might be down, so if they stay that way, those are your options I guess. Hope that gets solved soon, hope you enjoy the chapter!**_

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CHAPTER FIVE

THE NEXT LEVEL

O

"So," said Albus, as he and Lucas stepped into an empty classroom. "Rose and Aidan, huh?"

"Yeah," said Lucas, shrugging. "They've decided to have a relationship. Apparently, everyone except me saw that coming. Idunno, I guess I'm just not observant about those sorts of things."

"Really, though, how could you not?" laughed Albus.

"I'm not too observant," repeated Lucas. "I mean, Holly dated me for quite a while and I never had any idea that she was just using me to irritate you."

Albus grimaced.

"Mom and Dad always taught me everything I needed to know for school and jobs," said Lucas, "but literally nothing about the people I'd meet there."

"If they never gave you 'the talk,' believe me, you're not missing anything," said Albus, recalling his disastrous experience with his father trying to explain the birds and the bees to him. He wondered how that had gone if Harry had needed to have that talk with James at any point.

"I'm totally an idiot in most social situations," said Lucas. "My parents always said the best way to get people to like me was to impress them, but either they completely forgot to explain friendship or they literally had no friends growing up. Either way I wouldn't be too surprised."

"Well, you've got friends now," said Albus. "And you got them by being yourself—which makes sense."

"Yeah," said Lucas. "I mean, if you're changing yourself so that other people will like you… Then they don't really like _you,_ they like whoever you're turning yourself into for them. You should make friends with the people who like you for who you are without changing. Right?"

"To put it in children's book terms, yeah," said Albus. "The point is, just do what you want to do. With some limitations, obviously—"

"Yeah, I was about to say, I bet Voldemort was just doing what he wanted," said Lucas.

"Anyway, thanks for taking the time to help me become an Animagus," said Albus. "But I have to ask…"

"No, you can't try it yet," sighed Lucas. "And no, you can't try it for a while. I mean, the risk is high enough for any first transformation, let alone one that's rushed, before you're ready. Imagine having to go down to the hospital wing because you're half-transformed? You'd probably be _arrested_ if they found out you attempted it without registering and everything."

"That would suck," agreed Albus. "All right, so what practice do we have to do today?"

"Animal noises!" said Lucas, beaming.

"Wonderful, my favorite," grumbled Albus.

"Remember how to do this one?" asked Lucas. "This time, I want you to make the animal sounds when I tell you to 'Be' the animal, but _not_ when I say '_Do_' the animal. Okay?"

"Got it," said Albus.

"And remember, if you start to feel like one particular sound resonates more with you than others, let me know—it could be that you're starting to successfully connect with a certain kind of animal."

"I know," said Albus.

"Good. Be a cat!"

"Meow," said Albus.

"Be a sheep!"

"Baa," said Albus, trying to sound as much like a sheep as possible while simultaneously trying to roll his eyes as subtly as possible.

"Do a cow!"

Albus said nothing.

"Good," said Lucas. "Be a donkey!"

"Hee-haw," said Albus.

They continued on this pattern for some time; Albus always felt very stupid after completing this exercise, and he couldn't see how it would help him to become an Animagus. He trusted Lucas, though, and assumed that whatever techniques Lucas had used to become an Animagus by the age of thirteen would work for him.

"So, what's up with those Kinderaiths?" said Lucas, hoisting his bag on his shoulder as they prepared to walk down to lunch. "You said there were some of them _here_ now, here at Hogwarts? Is that why Wilcox said at breakfast that we were forbidden from even going near the Forbidden Forest anymore without an adult companion?"

"Yeah," said Albus. "He told me he was going to explain in full at dinner, to tell everyone exactly what Kinderaiths are."

"Oh, good," said Lucas, shuddering. "Because they sound horrible but I have no idea what they really are. Which makes it even worse."

"I don't know much about them, either," said Albus. "But I'm carrying around a Fanged Frisbee now, just in case."

He reached into his robe and pulled out the Frisbee, waving it around in the air.

"Um, why?" asked Lucas, a brow rising.

"When one attacked us near Hextus Horra, Wilcox threw it a Frisbee," said Albus.

"And what—it chased it like a dog?"

"No," said Albus, "it thanked Wilcox and when he said he'd come back later to play with them, they believed him. Then they just left us alone."

"That doesn't sound very threatening," said Lucas. "What, you just give it a toy and it leaves?"

"But it has some sort of telepathic power that forces you to walk towards it," said Albus. "And if you can't resist their mental powers, you won't be able to give them an offering to leave you alone… they'll just catch you."

"And what do they do with you when they catch you?" asked Lucas nervously.

"I don't know," said Albus. "Maybe Wilcox will tell us at dinner… but I'm not entirely sure I _want_ to know."

"Me neither," said Lucas. "Maybe there's a way to exterminate them."

"I'm glad they weren't here when Dismiusa was still around," said Albus, and they exited the classroom to head down to the Great Hall. "That would have made it a lot harder to get through the forest."

"Hey, speaking of her," said Lucas, "do you think any of the animals she introduced into the forest are still around?"

"Everything in the castle wilted and died after we killed her," said Albus. "I would assume everything in the forest died, too… we haven't seen anything since then, anyway."

"But maybe everything she _introduced_ died," said Lucas, scratching his head. "She created all of those animals from scratch, right? But the mulunctapoli didn't die, and the Fokii spores are carried by the muls. You think there are any Fokii left in the Forbidden Forest?"

"That's a scary but interesting question," said Albus. "I certainly hope not…"

"I hope the Fokii and the Kinderaiths eat each other," said Lucas.

"That would be nice," agreed Albus.

"And what happened to your uncle?" asked Lucas. "The Minister? I heard he got attacked, and his blood was stolen, but… I'm just really confused as to why they didn't kill him. Not that I'm unhappy that he lived!"

"I get it, I was really confused, too," said Albus. "Uncle Percy said that something attacked him, but it wasn't a person. It was a little flying animal that paralyzed him with a sting. It slashed open his arm and stole a lot of his blood—it probably would have completely drained his body and left him dead if my dad hadn't been going to see him at that time and walked in on the process."

"A little flying animal?"

"Dad said it looked like a spider with bat wings," said Albus. "It filled itself up with the blood and went to fly back to whoever sent it, but Dad cursed it down and it exploded. He said the blood went all over Uncle Percy's office; it looked like he really _had_ been murdered. Almost enough blood was taken to kill him—he barely survived."

"So they have little flying spider mercenaries that suck your blood," said Lucas. "Lovely. As if spiders weren't terrifying enough already."

Albus laughed; he recalled Harry confiding in him the story about when he'd explained to Uncle Ron what had happened; at the news of flying vampire spiders, Uncle Ron had nearly passed out. Disguised as foreign Auror Aanmar Vioulii, he'd have to keep his cool around the spiders. If the other Aurors noticed the intensity of his arachnophobia, they might guess who he really was.

"Again, not to sound disappointed that your uncle lived," said Lucas, "but why weren't the spiders equipped with _deadly_ venom, rather than paralyzing venom?"

"I don't know," said Albus, shrugging. "Maybe the blood has to start being collected while the victim is still alive…"

"Again, lovely," said Lucas. "I don't know why I asked about that whole thing anyway. I should have known it would only make me feel worse."

"But you still need to know," noted Albus as they entered the Great Hall. "In order to defend yourself against what's coming."

Lucas nodded; Albus twisted his mouth around, knowing he really needed to take his own advice. No matter how frightened it made him to think about the Devs nowadays, he still needed to know about them, or he wouldn't know what was coming for him. He had to remind himself of this as often as possible.

"Hey, there you are," said Rose, beckoning Albus and Lucas over to some free seats near her at the Gryffindor table. "Professor Longbottom just told me something really interesting, you wanna hear it?"

"Yeah, what?" asked Lucas.

"We're the largest group of students in one year to be taking every possible N.E.W.T. class," said Rose. "There are seven of us taking all thirteen N.E.W.T. courses. That's more than any other year since Hogwarts was founded—even when there were only twelve courses!"

"Wow, seven of us?" asked Albus, surprised. "Who would that be? There's me, you, and Lucas… Aidan, obviously, and…"

"Holly, Gad, and Abby," finished Rose.

"Ah, right," said Lucas. "Well, we'll see if everyone holds on to all thirteen classes all the way through to the end."

"Yeah, I doubt all seven of us are going to get all thirteen N.E.W.T.s," said Rose, shuddering. "I know that I for one am going to fail all of them."

"Oh, for the love of Merlin, Rose—you'll do fine," said Lucas. "Not being confident is one of the worst things you can do to yourself. You'll get all thirteen N.E.W.T.s, easy. Just like Albus and I will. We all got thirteen Outstanding scores on our O.W.L.s—how hard can the N.E.W.T.s be?"

"Can you guys maybe _not_ keep bragging about how smart you all are?" grumbled Exo.

Albus grimaced. Exo hadn't been in such a great mood ever since they had gotten back, very possibly due to Rose and Aidan's new relationship.

"Sorry," said Lucas. He turned to Albus. "Oh, and—how's Roxanne? I heard she had a bit of a panic attack after those Kinderaiths almost got you two…"

"She's fine," said Albus, staring him down. "Why?"

Lucas blushed. "Well—she and I dated once—I was just—concerned."

"Yeah, well, she's okay," said Albus.

He sighed. He didn't hate Lucas like he used to in their third year… but he still for some reason couldn't stomach the thought of Lucas going out with his cousin.

"And are you interested in anyone, Albus?" asked Rose.

"Not at the moment," said Albus, and he shrugged.

"Well, let me know if you are," said Rose, flashing a grin.

Albus rolled his eyes. He looked over at Exo, who was eating his stew and obviously stewing about something. Rose didn't ask Exo if he was interested in anyone… for which Albus was quite grateful. If he told the truth, it probably wasn't something that Rose or Aidan would like to hear.

O

"Human Transfiguration is more difficult than normal Transfiguration," said Professor Desulgon, pacing around the room as he spoke. "But after all that you've learned… these past five years… from me… I'd say you're ready. Now, no fooling around in here, okay? If I catch anyone fooling around with these spells, they're going to leave my classroom and not come back. Being in N.E.W.T.-level Transfiguration is a privilege, and it is one you will neither waste nor disrespect. This is the next level of your schooling, and you need to step your game up to the next level in response."

Professor Desulgon launched into an explanation of how to accomplish human Transfiguration, but it was less in-depth and a little more confusing than usual; he wasn't fully focused on the teaching. He was pacing distractedly; something other than the material was on his mind, and he wasn't communicating the textbook material nearly as effectively as he had in the past. Alec watched him carefully, twisting his mouth around.

"That didn't make any sense to me," said Alec as they began individual practice on the spell. "Usually I understand exactly what Professor Desulgon is trying to say, but it's like he's not even putting any effort into his explanations anymore."

Albus looked over to Professor Desulgon, who was huddled at his desk, scribbling away at a piece of parchment, not really focused at all on how his students were doing with the spell.

"It's like being in another class with Binns," groaned Alec, staring at his textbook chapter on human Transfiguration and shaking his head. "And I dropped out of the actual History of Magic this morning because I couldn't stand it anymore."

"That explains why we didn't see you in History of Magic this morning," said Exo.

"Wait, doesn't that give you only six classes?" asked Rose. "I thought you were only taking History of Magic because at least seven classes are required for certified Hogwarts attendance."

"It did, but I jumped back into Divination," said Alec. "_That_ class is like nails on a chalkboard too, but at least it's easier to bullshit my way through. The only reason I initially took History of Magic over Divination this year was because Divination is first thing on Monday morning and that just seemed even worse. I don't need _another_ class I hate in my schedule—what happened to the old Professor Desulgon?"

"I don't know," called Parker Pullman, their blind Gryffindor classmate, edging towards them. "But he's definitely different from last year. In fact, he's so different that even his _aura_ has changed."

"His aura changed?" asked Albus, surprised.

"Yeah, I didn't even recognize him," said Parker. "That's been known to happen, though. It's almost like a Patronus, which I've heard can change forms. Your aura can change, too. And Professor Desulgon's changed between last year and this year… I'm sure of it."

"Fascinating," said Rose. "I wish I could read auras…"

"I do, too," said Albus, his brain igniting.

"I hear it's really hard," said Rose, "but easier for blind individuals—like it takes the place of sight somehow."

"It's not an easy thing to pick up for anyone," said Parker. "And it gets harder to pick up as you get older, like learning another language."

"How would you describe it?" asked Rose curiously.

"Like learning another language," repeated Parker.

Rose deflated. "I _meant_ how would you describe reading auras in general? Like a sixth sense, or something else?"

"Another sense," said Parker. "Not a _sixth_ sense, seeing as I didn't have all five to begin with. But it's also like feeling someone else's emotions. Which is why I can tell that Professor Desulgon seems to be… not himself this year."

"Odd," said Rose. "I mean… Right from the first class of the year, I could tell that he was off his game, that he didn't seem to be one hundred percent with us anymore. Sometimes a person can just pick up on that. Is reading auras just an extension of that natural ability people have to tell when someone's feeling a certain way?"

"Not really," said Parker. "I mean, reading a new aura feels a _little_ bit like how I feel when I hear a difference in the tone of someone's voice, but you had to see or hear him to pick up on that… I picked up on it before I even walked into the room on our first day back."

They chatted the entire class, not really sure how to do the human Transfiguration tasks which Professor Desulgon had asked of them and not wanting to risk doing it incorrectly and ending up in the hospital wing. Oddly enough, Professor Desulgon, who was always on the ball when students were off-task, was too distracted by whatever he was writing to even notice the distracted students, and he never tried to push them back on task. Something else was clearly on his mind so much that he seemed to barely acknowledge, or even _notice,_ that he was teaching a class.

O

Albus couldn't really judge Professor Desulgon, though—he hardly even noticed _taking_ thirteen classes, because the year was just flying by. Thankfully, most of what he had missed in all of his classes had been a recap of what had been done the previous years; they were only just getting into new material when Albus joined them. But the new material was somehow not nearly as engaging as it used to be. Maybe it was the form of the massive workload that he was receiving. He was used to a lot of work, but not quite this much busy work.

The A.R.M. classes, the thirteenth course on his schedule, were getting more and more fascinating; he was always completely alert for those. But the others were sometimes lost in routine—essays and theory tests began to outweigh the practical performance by a good margin, because the N.E.W.T.s had two written components and only one practical component. The A.R.M. classes were much more engaging, and since their year would be the first to take N.E.W.T. examinations on this topic, they had no idea what to expect. It was both frightening and stimulating.

In Diwandology, they were now studying Metronoming, Telescoping, and Concurrence at the Complex level, which was fascinating. Combination attacks which had until recently been accomplished only by teams of multiple wizards could now be performed by a single one.

"Metronoming is simple," said Professor Evranote during one of their classes. "The suffix _Augero_ is added to the end of any spell, and then that spell would increase in power with every subsequent consecutive usage of the same spell. But at the complex level, it doesn't always have to be consecutive, if you play your cards right and keep extreme focus. I'll teach you a few brain exercises to help you in these endeavors. You can also Metronome back and forth with two different spells with either wand—that's difficult, but even more powerful than regular Metronoming. And you could also Metronome between two different _people._ That's one of the more stunning displays of power you can accomplish.

"Telescoping, as you know, is firing one spell into another, which makes them both entangle and increase in power," she continued. "The jets of any number of spells will grow and intensify when they entwine, but you will lose a bit of control. Complex Telescoping involves both gaining more control and also the ability to have the spells untangle in midair and fly towards different targets. It's something your enemy will be hard-pressed to predict or defend. Some other high-level Telescoping techniques will be discussed… they are extremely cool.

"And Concurrence," she concluded, "is holding multiple wands in the same hand to cast the same spell—simple, but hard to do without exhausting yourself. On the other hand, Complex Concurrence creates the same effect but without the exponential factor to the required energy—meaning, for those of you not taking Arithmancy, that you won't tire as fast. You can also use Complex Concurrence to prevent Telescoping from occurring, if you want your aim to be more precise and pack a bigger punch. I think that by the end of this year, you all could master every single one of these tricks, if you work hard enough."

Professor Skower of Wandless Magic had some harsher, more pessimistic words to say about what they would be attempting this year. He did, of course, teach one of the most difficult subjects to master, so this pessimism was not unfounded.

"You may be able to attempt Minor Spellwork by the end of this year, if you master everything else fast enough," said Professor Skower. "If there's anyone here who can pass my Control and Distance test before the end of the year, I'll give you a few more readings on Minor Spellwork and you can start trying. Wandless magic can be very easy sometimes—casting an actual _spell_ wandlessly is _extremely_ difficult, _always._ But it can be very useful if you lose your wand in battle. Wandlessly, you may wish to try to Disarm an opponent as a last-ditch effort if you fu— …er, screwed up—or you may simply want to summon a cup of tea from across the room if you don't have your wand at the ready and you're too lazy to get up. But this is a very imprecise art. You will most likely accidentally end up tickling the person you're trying to Disarm, or smashing the tea cup into your temple. Don't worry if you can't get to Minor Spellwork by the end of this year, because you're actually scheduled to do Minor Spellwork in your seventh year. I'm just letting you start early. But you won't get to Major Spellwork in your seventh year. You wouldn't get to Major Spellwork without at least three years of graduate work dedicated _solely_ to Wandless Magic. As I said, it's a very imprecise art, and it's extremely difficult. Why the hell did any of you want to take this class, let alone _keep_ taking it?"

Professor Pratley was more optimistic about their Alternative Artifact Magic course, and showed it with a bombastic classroom demonstration.

"You'll be learning Imbuance, Exstruction, Suasion and Subjugation this year," she said cheerily. "This is one of the most fun things you'll ever learn in your schooling. Basically, you're making your own temporary wands!"

She lifted from her desk in turn a rose; a few feathers from the tail of an Aptad, which had taken the form of a bird; a long, thin mushroom; and a thin strip metal, which she called Cordite.

"This is an Exstructable set," she explained. "The rose is great for Charms. The Aptad tail is excellent for Transfiguration. The mushroom is great for curses, jinxes, and hexes. And the Cordite is great for channeling magic. Not to be confused with Muggle Cordite, which is also used in _their_ weapons. Now, watch."

She raised her hand, and said, "_Up._"

The metal sprang off the desk and into her hand.

"Broomstick manufacturers put a little chip of Cordite into the handle of most broomsticks to make them do that," she explained. "But also to prove theft when someone steals a broom, because every piece of Cordite has a strange property that's like a fingerprint, and no two pieces of Cordite are the same. Isn't that fascinating?"

She then twirled the thin piece of Cordite in her hand until it was spinning rapidly, and let go; it stayed hovering in the air. She grabbed the rose and peeled off the thorns one by one, dropping them onto the spinning stick of Cordite, which absorbed them; she sprinkled the mushroom's spores onto it next, and then dropped a few feathers on the Cordite, which consumed them instantly.

"Obviously, this works much better if you have access to any Cordite," said Professor Pratley. "But you can do it with a few other materials, and really any kind of metal will work if you give it enough magic—that's called Imbuance. And Exstruction is the actual creation of the wand, which is what I just did."

She snatched the Cordite out of the air, and then aimed it at a vase floating in the back of the room.

"_Diffindo!_" she yelled, using the Cordite as a wand.

The spell sliced the hard stone vase right in half and plummeted to the ground.

Nonverbally, she shot two more spells, which transformed each half of the falling vase into a bird, which then began fluttering around the room and chirping.

"_Impedimenta Itero!_" she said, and the Impediment Jinxes stopped both of the birds in midair.

"And this will actually work nearly as well as any wand, for a good amount of time," said Professor Pratley. "Because _you_ created it, the wand has an incredible connection with you. But you first have to prove it, and that's something that I can't easily demonstrate. That's called 'Suasion and Subjugation,' and it's the hardest part—showing this brand-new wand that you're capable of wielding it to its full potential. Otherwise it'll leave you and wait for someone else who can use it better—literally, it will jump out of your hand and sit on the ground glowing until someone else finds it. First you have to persuade it to allow you to try. Then you have to exert dominance over it and subjugate it." She grinned widely. "And I think all of you can do that!"

Their final A.R.M. class, Modern Magical Instruments with Professor Norton, was very straightforward and to the point.

"You're studying HRC manufacture this first term of your sixth year," she explained. "Also called Wand Substitute Manufacture. This is like IESS in your Alternative Artifact Magic class—Imbuance, Exstruction, Suasion and Subjugation—except that this is what you do when you have a little more time on your hands and need a more permanent wand substitute, and it takes quite a bit longer to master as well. HRC stands for Human-Rendered Copacetial Manufacture. Anyone remember what Copacetials are? Quinn?"

"Viable substitutes for wands which can be found in nature," said Abby.

"Right, so Human-Rendered Copacetials, or HRCs—or Harks, as some people like to call them—are substitutes for wands that people make, or improve upon what is found in nature. Copacetials can be anything from a rose to an animal horn to a branch from an actual wand-wood quality tree to a pebble, but not all of them are obviously going to be _good_ Copacetials. But the point of HRCs is to _make_ them good… And once you've learned how to make a good HRC, we're going to take the next natural step and you're going to learn wandlore and how to actually make a real wand. Your final project in this class—which you're in fact going to start at the beginning of next term, right after Christmas—is going to be making your very own wand, and it will be plenty good enough to use. You may even prefer it to one of the wands you have now, especially if you've learned how to properly Suade and Subjugate it in Alternative Artifact Magic, with which this class often overlaps. These N.E.W.T. years are no exception."

"Doesn't it take years and years of training to become a wandmaker?" asked Gad.

"It does," said Professor Norton. "But wandmakers can fashion dozens of wands in a day. You will spend the next two years learning how to make _one_ wand, and there's no reason you won't be able to do it, given that much time. Wandmakers also have the unfortunate responsibility of making wands that _other_ people can use, that a stranger will pick up and enjoy, whereas making a wand for yourself—or someone you know—is much easier. Yes, it takes decades to become a good wandmaker—but you don't have to be a good wandmaker. You just have to make one, for yourself. And you'll do it right if you do everything I tell you. Any questions?"

There were no questions, and they immediately began work on creating a wand substitute. When the next Friday rolled around, and the A.R.M. double period was assigned to Modern Magical Instruments for that week, they began creating wands from scratch—and much to everyone's surprise, they really worked. Albus imagined this would come very much in handy if he was ever stranded somewhere without a wand.

"I _don't_ suggest you try this at home," said Professor Norton when they were dismissed. "First of all, it's really quite dangerous if you're unsupervised. Secondly, something can happen that's similar to why only an idiot purchases a bunch of wands to keep around.

"This happens all the time in history. Whenever there's a conflict, wand sales go up. People buy multiple wands. They're thinking, 'Hey, if I have a couple of wands in my pocket, then even if I get Disarmed, I can just pull out another one and keep on dueling!' But no. That's inane. When you own multiple wands, you're sharing the limited bond that you have with a wand, and that means each wand gets less of a share of your bond. That in turn makes casting spells much more difficult, because the bond is what decreases Resistance in your spellwork. So by purchasing ten wands, people make it immensely more difficult for them to cast spells even when using one at a time. That's why we're going to recommend you destroy one of your wands after you make a third—otherwise, casting spells is going to be harder once you've made another one."

Albus frowned; if wands were semi-sentient, wasn't that like murder?

"But we'll leave that up to you," said Professor Norton. "Three isn't so bad. More than three is generally where you get problems. Class dismissed. No homework—you have enough of that at the N.E.W.T. level, I expect."

O

"Shape up, Albus!" cried Roxanne as a practice Bludger nearly smacked into him during their Quidditch training. "What's the matter with you? Our first match isn't so far away, but you seem like you're in another world right now!"

"Sorry," mumbled Albus. He scanned the field quickly for the Snitch, hoping to make up for his absentmindedness, but he couldn't find it immediately and felt like giving up.

"What's the matter with you?" asked Roxanne, flying up next to him, waving her bat threateningly. "You're starting Seeker now! You're at the next level of play. You're up in the air with us now but you still look like you're mentally on the bench!"

"Sorry," repeated Albus. "I'm just… distracted…"

"Then focus!" said Roxanne, looking frazzled. "Your brother was a year older than me, thus ensuring that this was the only year I get to be Captain. And we are _going_ to win the Cup this year, as we've only done once since I've been here! Last year's final match against Ravenclaw was just embarrassing."

"I don't even remember it," said Albus honestly, surprised with himself; the entire end of last year had been one giant blur.

"Long story short, we couldn't get the Snitch in time, Brightstar got hurt, and without our star Keeper, Ravenclaw beat us by a hundred and eighty even after your brother caught the Snitch," said Roxanne. "I remember it all too cleanly. That's _not_ going to happen this year. I'm going to remember a _victory._ And if you can't step up your game, then your boyfriend Abbott is going to be taking your place up there against Slytherin! Got it?"

"Got it," mumbled Albus, not bothering to correct Roxanne that Abbott was very much not his boyfriend.

"Then get to it!" said Roxanne, turning around and flying off towards the nearest Bludger.

Albus sighed. His schoolwork was exhausting him already. Maybe it was just the large pile of make-up work that he had only just gotten through… but he had a feeling that now that he was past that, something else would come up to exhaust him completely again. In fact, Quidditch was probably that something.

He heaved a long sigh and began looking for the Snitch again. Did he really need to practice this?

Obviously yes, as he hadn't caught it yet. He flew up high in the air, scanning the stadium. As he turned his head to the forest he saw, faintly in the distance, a little girl poking her head around a tree by the edge of the Forbidden Forest.

It wasn't close enough to invade his mind, but it still affected his thoughts; namely, making him feel very uncomfortable and unsafe at Hogwarts. So much had happened to him, and yet he had a feeling none of it was over in the slightest sense.

How could anyone expect him to concentrate on schoolwork anymore?

* * *

_**My apologies for being unable to make last week's update. Something really spectacular has just happened in my life; I lost my whole weekend as a result, but it was more than worth it. On the other hand, I'm in a great mood now, so writing has been really easy. Hope you enjoyed! Some serious stuff is ready to go down pretty soon.**_

_**Hangman! The letter "S" won, and there are two of them. Now that more than half of the letters in the first word are there, remember: I won't tell you if you guess one of the words. You have to guess both of them together in order for me to tell you if you're right. And I WON'T acknowledge in the story or on my profile whether a guess is right or wrong-but if you have an account, I'll message you if you're right!**_

_**ALBUS POTTER AND THE A._._.S.S.A._ _._._._.E._**_

_**Again, guess a letter at the end of your review... If you think you know the first word, guess one of its letters and we'll see if you're right!**_


	6. Master of All the Earth

_**Sorry for the day's delay. It was a long chapter!**_

* * *

CHAPTER SIX

MASTER OF ALL THE EARTH

O

Albus stared at a spider crawling up the wall next to his bed. He knew that the flying spiders described by his father had been the size of mice, and so he had nothing to fear from this tiny speck of a creature, but thinking about spiders in general was still unsettling.

He raised his wand idly to levitate the spider, but a different thought crossed his mind. He still had the task wand from the Hourglass Empire, which allowed him to cast the Vessel Charm more easily… Why not practice with that?

If he was training to become an Animagus, what better way to get in the mindset of an animal than to actually get into the mind of an animal?

He almost reached into his bag to grab the wand, but something stopped him. IMW apparently did not know about the task wand—otherwise he'd probably have snatched it when he took the book about the Hourglass Empire's native magic. If IMW was still watching, then he might be ready to snatch the task wand if Albus showed it.

But IMW had said "goodbye" to him… Did that mean he wasn't watching anymore? Or was that just what he wanted Albus to believe, so that Albus would go back to acting as if no one was watching?

Albus stuck with his own wand and pointed it at the spider again. He could still do the spell… it just might be a little harder. Or not, now that he'd already done it successfully once. And Gimmick was a much more complex creature than the spider—just as it was easier to Transfigure simpler animals, it was also easier to use the Vessel Charm on them. This spider was almost as simple as it got; it would be one of the simplest animals he would try casting the spell on. He could do this.

Albus cleared his throat, and checked to see if anyone else was in the room.

"_Vassavess Liknilo,_" he said.

There was a quick flash of something in his vision, but it wasn't long. He frowned, and vowed to practice that one. That would probably help very much with his Animagus efforts.

He suddenly felt a freezing-cold prickle on the back of his neck; it traveled slowly down his spine and stopped his heart momentarily as it passed. It turned his arms to jelly fleetingly, and then stopped when it reached the base of his back. He was left with a very cold sweat and a fast breath rate, and all of the hair on his body was standing straight out.

He ran out into the common room and stepped in front of the fire. It was still early November; it was cold but not _that_ cold, but thankfully the fire was always going. He stepped in front of it, shaking and shivering.

"What the hell happened to you?" asked a surprised voice from one of the armchairs. "You look like you just saw a ghost."

Albus turned around to see Kayla reading a young adult novel in the armchair.

"Jesus, you look _awful,_" she said, her eyebrows arching even further up. "Never mind looking like you've seen a ghost. You look like a ghost ate you and shat you out."

"That bad?" asked Albus, his teeth chattering.

"That bad," said Kayla. "What, are you nervous for the Quidditch match today?"

"Well, yes, but that's not why I'm trembling," said Albus. "Shouldn't you be at breakfast?"

"Shouldn't the star athlete be at breakfast before his big game?" asked Kayla. "_You_ need to eat way more than _I_ do."

"I'm not hungry," said Albus.

Kayla rolled her eyes. "Eat anyway, you git."

"I feel sick," said Albus, bending over and clutching his stomach.

"Jesus," said Kayla again, getting up from her armchair and extracting her wand. "You look like a ghost ate you and shat you out directly into the mouth of another ghost who then repeated the process about twenty or fifty times."

"That makes me feel so much better," choked Albus, trying to hold back vomit as his stomach churned over and over again.

"Now, don't tell me this isn't stage fright for your big game," said Kayla. "Because that's quite the coincidence if you're feeling like throwing up the morning before the big game when you already admitted you were too nervous to eat breakfast."

"I didn't say that's why I wasn't eating breakfast," whispered Albus.

The gentle patter of rain started up on the windows. Albus stayed by the fire, still cold-sweating and twitchy.

"This doesn't feel like sickness, or nervousness," said Albus. "I feel like… like something bad is about to happen."

The portrait hole opened up, and a steady stream of students flowed in. Parker Pullman broke off from the crowd and walked right up to Albus, looking very nervous as well.

"_You_ look like you've seen a ghost as well," said Kayla.

"I don't see much," said Parker.

Kayla shrunk back into the cushiness of the armchair. "Right. Whoops. Sorry."

"Don't worry about it. Hey… Albus?"

"Yeah?" asked Albus weakly.

"I don't need to see to be able to tell that you seem terrible. Is everything okay?"

"I feel like a Dementor is sliding out my bellybutton, but other than that, great," said Albus. "You can tell, huh?"

"Well, your aura seemed a little darker," said Parker. "Well, a lot darker…"

"Good to know," said Albus. "Should I hit the hospital wing?"

"I'd recommend it," said Kayla. "You want someone to walk you down?"

"Maybe," said Albus. "I'm just going to sit here for a while and see if any of it wears off… I don't feel like moving much anyway…"

"I can run down and get something for you," offered Kayla.

"Hey, Albus!" said Hugo, waving. "You ready for your big—whoa, guess not?"

"He's under the weather," said Parker.

"We're all going to be under the weather soon when we go out for that Quidditch match," said Hugo. "It's pouring now."

"I'm not so sure you should go out in this kind of weather as sick as you are," said Kayla. "Even if you do end up getting something from Madam Glaslyn, I wouldn't recommend it… Can someone else take your place?"

Across the room, Abbott Ashdown's head swiveled over like an alert puppy.

"It's really important—"

"What the hell about your life makes you think _Quidditch_ is something that's actually important in any way?" scoffed Kayla.

"My brother, father, mother, and several cousins, aunts, uncles, and grandparents do," said Albus. "It's kind of a family tradition—"

"Come on, Albus," said Kayla. "If you're gonna die, at least die fighting, not falling off a broom from nausea. That's just lame."

"I'm not gonna die," said Albus, standing up. "I feel better already."

"You don't feel better to me," said Parker.

Albus shot him a _shut up_ look, before remembering yet again that shooting Parker any look was pretty pointless.

"Albus—" started Kayla.

"I'll be fine," said Albus, noticing Abbott deflate in the corner of the room. "Seriously. I'm okay. If I can't go on, we can always switch out for Abbott."

"Fine," said Kayla. "But eat something first."

"Here!" said a random third-year Gryffindor girl, appearing out of nowhere, handing him some sort of breakfast sandwich. "I brought this up for you since you weren't at breakfast!"

"Er… thanks," said Albus, taking it gingerly.

"Good luck in the match today!" she said. "We're all pulling for you!"

"Thanks, Lulu," said Kayla. "Well, there you go! Eat it, you moron, and get yourself ready, if you really insist on going out there."

"I do," said Albus, biting into the sandwich, which had egg and sausage in it. It wasn't bad, but it was cold; he wished he'd gone down for breakfast, although he wouldn't have enjoyed having this wave of nausea rush over him in front of all of those people.

"All right," said Kayla. "Good luck, Albus."

"Thanks," said Albus. "I should head down to Roxanne and the rest of the team…"

"I suppose so," said Kayla, rolling her eyes. "Just… if you get quite that bad again, go see Madam Glaslyn, yeah?"

"Sure," said Albus, and he hurried out the door; Roxanne would probably be waiting for him now, seeing as breakfast was over.

He actually did feel quite a bit better once he got moving; whatever feeling he had gotten was past now. He wandered down to the classroom where Roxanne had instructed them to meet beforehand.

"Albus!" exhaled Roxanne when he walked in. "Thank God—you're late, you arse! I was about to send out someone to look for you! Get in here!"

"Sorry," said Albus.

"Sorry doesn't cut it—you should avoid putting yourself in a situation where you have to apologize to me!" she said bitingly. "Come ON, Albus! This is the real deal!"

Roxanne seemed to be taking her duties a little too seriously; she was manic with the desire to win.

"You'd better make it up to me on the pitch," she said.

"Oh, I will," said Albus dreamily. "I'll win it for Lulu."

"For _who?_" said Roxanne as the rest of the team glanced at each other, giggling softly.

"Lulu," said Albus. "She's the greatest girl I've ever seen…"

"Snap OUT of it, Albus, and take this seriously!" spat Roxanne.

"I am taking her seriously," said Albus dramatically. "I want her to… I want her to be my… my _girlfriend!_ And maybe my wife!"

"Oh, shit, he's lovebugged," said Roxanne, slapping a hand to her face.

"You mean someone slipped him a love potion?" asked Jonah, laughing.

"Yes, a love potion, Jonah, that's what 'lovebugged' means," groaned Roxanne. "Really? _Today?_ Who's this Lulu, is she in Slytherin? Did they drug our Seeker?"

"Lulu's in my year in Gryffindor," chirped Silva Brightstar.

"Oh, god, she's _thirteen?_" moaned Roxanne. "Albus, really…"

"I saw her putting something in a sandwich at breakfast today," continued Silva. "She was talking with her friends about Albus not being at breakfast."

"AND YOU DIDN'T STOP HER?!" bellowed Roxanne.

Silva recoiled with terrified guilt, like a dog being told that it was a bad dog.

"Damnit, damnit, damnit!" screamed Roxanne. "Somebody—Jonah, Pallie, run Albus down to Professor Valon so he can get this out of his system, and _hurry,_ we haven't got that much time!"

"Can do, Cap'n," said Pallie, and she and Jonah stepped on either side of Albus, put their hands behind his back, and escorted him out at a swift walk.

"Where are we going?" asked Albus, hoping it was somewhere that Lulu would be hanging out.

"We're going to go to Professor Valon to ask him to brew up a manliness potion so you can woo your little bride," said Jonah.

"Oh, good," said Albus. "I've always wanted one of those."

"A manliness potion, or a little bride?" asked Pallie.

"Both," said Albus.

They walked into Professor Valon's room, but he wasn't there.

"Hey Esmé, do you know where Professor Valon is?" asked Jonah, calling to a portrait towards the front of the office.

"Slytherin common room, I think," she said. "There was a scuffle."

"How long ago?" asked Pallie. "Should we stay and wait, or go find him?"

"Stay, I'd say," said Esmé. "It was some time ago."

"Any idea what the scuffle was about?" asked Jonah.

"Nope," said Esmé.

"Or who was involved?"

"Nope," repeated Esmé. "But I'm sure you'll find out." She pointed at the door.

At that point, the door opened; Professor Valon walked in, dragging Sylvester Alamandrine, sporting a lovely black eye; two seventh-year Slytherins whom Albus remembered as Ross Delle-Smith and Darren Randall were also chivvied in.

"You boys are—Albus Potter?" asked Professor Valon, confusedly, looking over their shoulders to where Albus, Pallie, and Jonah were standing.

"No, we're not," said Ross.

"I bloody well know you're not Albus Potter, you brain-deficient beast," said Professor Valon. "I'm wondering why the actual Albus Potter is in my office right before his Quidditch match—unless—" His eyes widened, and in a fraction of a second he'd extracted a bezoar from his pocket.

"Nothing too serious, Professor," said Jonah. "Lovebugged."

"Ah," said Professor Valon, pocketing the bezoar again. "Well, I can get that sorted out for you right now… I have the very remedy in the classroom right now, I just need to add one other thing, but I can have it ready in seconds… Any idea what kind of love potion?"

"One that makes him drool," said Pallie, staring at a thin trickle of liquid oozing from Albus's open mouth.

"I want to go frolicking with Lulu," sang Albus.

"And daydream," added Pallie.

"All right, that's good enough," said Professor Valon. "Come on, Potter, Bell, Baxter. Er—Baxter-Thornton. _You_ three odious oafs," he said, pointing to Sylvester, Ross, and Darren, "will stay here and will keep off of each other's throats… or you'll next be fighting over cardboard boxes on the streets. Catch my drift?"

The three boys nodded; Professor Valon took a key off of his desk and escorted the other three into the Potions dungeon, where a few cauldrons were bubbling.

Professor Valon took a vial and his wand, and streamed some dark green potion from one of the cauldrons into the vial. He turned to the door that led to the Potions storeroom; with a few waves of his wand, he sent the key over there, unlocked it, opened the door, and caused a few silver leaves from a plant inside to break off and hover over.

"Shiverfig leaves to counteract the Heatmo flower that's found in most love potions," explained Professor Valon. "You will actually be learning a little bit about love potions this year. Very soon, in fact. That's why I'm brewing these."

He crumbled the leaves, which turned to a fine blue-gray dust at the slightest pinch, and sprinkled them into the potion, which sizzled and began giving off a cold steam.

"This is one of the newest and most effective remedies," said Professor Valon. "I invented it myself… Drink up."

"_Remedies?_" asked Albus, suddenly realizing what they were about to do to him. "I don't want to be remedied—I want to be with Lulu! She's my living remedy!"

"That would be romantic if it weren't so stupid," said Pallie as Jonah forced the cup up to Albus's lips and poured it in his mouth.

Albus wiped his mouth; the cold sensation of the potion flowed through his body, and he snapped out of his warm trance.

"Ugh," he said after a moment of recovery. "Thanks for that, guys…"

"Of course," said Jonah. "Now, come on—Roxanne's probably had at least ten or eleven aneurysms already since we've been gone."

"Thank you very much, sir," said Albus, turning to his savior.

"You're welcome," said Professor Valon. "Just don't go flying for at least three days after drinking that potion."

"What?!" shouted Albus, Pallie, and Jonah.

"I'm just kidding," said Professor Valon with a wink. "I'd wish you good luck, but I'd be a traitor to my House…"

"Understandable," said Albus. "Bye!"

"Keep up the excellent work, Albus," called Professor Valon as they left. "You're doing better than any N.E.W.T. student I've ever taught."

"Don't eat things that third year girls give you anymore, 'kay?" asked Pallie.

"I'll do my best," said Albus, sighing.

"Albus Pooter is in _loooove_ with Lulu!" announced Peeves in the voice of an opera singer, swooping overhead. "Pooter and Lulu! Pooter and Lulu!"

"That's not going to go away for a while, is it," growled Albus.

"Nope," said Jonah, pointing ahead, "she isn't."

Lulu was skipping towards Albus; Albus turned tail immediately. He ran the long way around back to Roxanne, leaving a shocked Lulu sobbing in the hallway and Peeves declaring "POOTER'S PLAYING HARD TO GET! WHAT A DOG!"

O

"And—er—here comes the Slytherin team—er—sorry—that's Gryffindor," said the tentative announcer. "Sorry… It's really hard to see in this rain…"

The rain was coming in sheets; they weren't walking across the field so much as swimming. His head was finally clear of the effects of the love potion, and his stomach was finally stabilized; Albus was ready to get up in the sky.

"Their caption is Roxanne Weasley," said the announcer. "Er—their captain, I mean. Is Roxanne Weasley. Yeah. She's also a Beater, I think."

Barry Dunbar had previously done Quidditch commentary; he had been great, but he had now graduated. The boy who had taken his place was a Slytherin third year named Donnie Sescis, brother to Desmond Sescis in Albus's year who was also a Beater on the Slytherin team. Albus knew whoever took the mantle would have a rough time living up to Barry's standards, but Donnie was already dreadful, and the fact that nobody could see anything wasn't helping.

"Their Seeker is Albus Potter," said Donnie. "He's six years old. I mean—in his sixth year. Keeper Silva Brightstar is in his third year. There's a big rain splotch on the name of the other Beater and I can't read it. Whoever he is, he's a seventh year. I think. Er… and Chasers are seventh year Lara Leigh—" he pronounced it _leeg_— "and sixth years Jonah Baxter-Thornton and Pa—pal—pa-lee-la? Pa-lie-la? Pal-ill-la? Someone Bell. And here's Slytherin… Captain Artura Reade is in her fifth year, and she's their Seeker. They have a young line-up overall this year… Arsenio Anitha in his fourth year, Jasmine Zabini in her sixth, and Melody Quinn in her third year are the Chasers, the Beaters are Desmond Sescis and Kara Lark in years six and five, respectively, and their Keeper is Uma Brayard in her sixth year."

He recited the Slytherin team members perfectly; then again, he was in Slytherin and his brother was on the team, so it made sense that he knew the players… Still, the underlying bias was irritating.

"Captains, shake hands," yelled Madam Duopold over the slashing rain. "And make it quick, Seekers. It's pouring like hell and I've got—we've all got things to do."

Albus frowned and steadied himself as Roxanne gave a bone-crushing handshake to Artura Reade, looking Petrified. Artura looked at her mangled hand, and Albus silently hoped it would mean she'd have a harder time catching the Snitch—not that she'd get the chance if he had his way, and he'd try his damnedest to have his way.

Madam Duopold blew her whistle, which became waterlogged instantly upon contact with the air and didn't make much of a sound after a quick little tweet.

Albus rose high into the air, slower than usual because he was heavier with the rain and there was much less visibility. He could only tell what was going on from the patchy commentary from Donnie below.

"And—someone gets the Quaffle—who is that? I can't—oh, they scored… Who scored? I don't know who scored… I'm gonna guess Slytherin… Ten-zero Slytherin…"

"Gryffindor scored," called Professor Longbottom from behind Donnie.

"Oh," said Donnie. "Ten-zero Gryffindor… Oh, I think someone else scored… I can't remember if that was the same side… Ten-ten…"

"That was Gryffindor again…"

"Oh… Sorry… Er, twenty-ten…"

"Twenty-zero."

"Twenty to zero," amended Donnie.

Albus scoured the field for a good amount of time with very little luck; he didn't even catch a glimpse of anything that he thought could be the Snitch. He didn't feel like looking very hard in these conditions, but he knew that the only way they'd get _out_ of these conditions would be for someone to catch the Snitch, and he wasn't about to let that be Slytherin. He raced around the field, keeping a close eye on the Slytherin Captain whenever he could. But the rain was so heavy he could barely even see his own broom, let alone follow Artura or find the Snitch.

"Fifty to ten," called Donnie after a couple of minutes.

"Sixty to zero," corrected Professor Longbottom.

"Sixty to zero… I think that's a Slytherin player with the Quaffle…"

"That's Roxanne and her Beater's bat," said Professor Longbottom.

The commentary at least was amusing; Albus kept smirking as he flew around the field, scanning with tired eyes. He shook his head; this was pointless. He needed to wait for the rain to slow down…

As he thought it, the rain did in fact begin to slow. He didn't know if it was temporary; he had to take full advantage of it. He flew laps around the field, looking everywhere—

Something was slowly making its way towards the edge of the Quidditch stadium.

Albus glanced back, but the rain picked up and the shape was lost in the rain. If it was a Kinderaith, it couldn't get over the side of the stadium—hopefully—but whatever it was looked like it was heading directly at the stadium wall. It was large, and black, and shaped like some sort of mammal… It wasn't…

Was it a Grim?

He shook his head clear; the Grim was a fairy tale. He circled the stadium more, and the rain began to slow again about a half hour later or so; he looked over, but the figure had disappeared. Either it had left, or it was waiting behind one of the walls of the stadium and the stadium walls blocked it from his view.

The Snitch zoomed past his gaze as his vision was focused on the general vicinity of the creature he'd seen.

He sped after it; Artura saw him lunge forward and came in on a collision course. Albus kept his course steady as the rain picked up once more, but he had the Snitch in his sights, and not even Artura could stop him now… She knew she couldn't outrace him to it, and she was about to collide with him to try and make him lose the Snitch. But Albus dipped down quickly and rolled, and Artura passed right over him, so frightened that she was nearly dislodged from her broom. But by the time she had turned around, Albus's fingers were inches from the Snitch…

"One hundred and twenty to ninety," said Donnie.

"One hundred and eighty to thirty," sighed Professor Longbottom.

"One hundred and thirty to eighty," revised Donnie.

"No—oh, forget it."

"Er—that looks like Artura Reade closing in on the Snitch!"

"THAT'S ALBUS POTTER."

"Oh… Rats."

Albus lunged forward; he closed his hand around the Snitch successfully and felt a surge of victory, but he was falling; the back of his knee was the only thing touching his broom now. He wrapped his leg further around it and used the hand without the Snitch to pull the handle of his broom closer; he decelerated enough to land very softly on the ground. He leapt up with the Snitch in his hand and he whooped loudly.

Then he turned around.

Stunned with fear for half a second, he got a very long and terrifying look at what he had seen earlier from the sky. A large, humanlike dog, looking starved with its ribs showing and its red eyes sunken into its skull, was stretching out a paw-hand at him; fingers protruded from a canine paw with long and thick fingernails reaching out jaggedly at Albus's face, just a few feet away from touching. It was jet-black and deathly thin, and every single one of its features seemed half-human and half-dog. It was giving off a sensation of terrible cold, and Albus's spine froze over again; he instantly knew, somehow, that this was why he had become chilled up in the Gryffindor common room. He'd sensed the approach of this creature.

He leapt back and his hand slipped off of his wet broom. That one slip of his hand—that was it. There was no way he was going to outrun this hellish thing on foot, and he'd just dropped his broom. His hand unraveled and the Snitch plopped into the mud; he staggered backwards and tensed himself for what this animal would do to him.

Had time slowed to a crawl, or had the _creature_ slowed to a crawl? Was this what happened just before death—senses overacting so much that time seemed to progress at a tenth of its speed? No—the Gryffindor team was coming down all around him at normal speed. The creature that was approaching him was simply moving at roughly the speed that old Professor Dixon used to walk. If the creature wasn't so abjectly terrifying, he would have found it comical. The dog-man lowered its paw-hand ever so slowly; it took a second just for the paw-hand to hit the ground, and then it crawled towards him, moving just under the speed of a casual walk, but still moving slowly towards him.

He lunged for his broom, but he was knocked aside by Jonah and Pallie, who had landed by him and were hugging and cheering.

They must not have seen the creature through the rain; Albus pointed to it and tried to warn them, but they were too busy tousling his hair and complimenting him with ferocity. He looked over to the creature as he shouted for their attention, and then he saw Roxanne land just behind it. She ran towards him—and she was about to run right into the creature.

"_NO!_" screamed Albus, so loudly that Jonah and Pallie jumped backwards, finally alert.

Roxanne, however, was not fazed. She kept running at him—and ran right through the creature's body as if it were a ghost. She grabbed Albus around the waist; using her well-built arms, she lifted him partially into the air and twirled him around in the rain.

"Albus, you marvelous monster, you!" she cried triumphantly; she was twirling him around, staggering closer to the creature.

Albus struggled out of her grip; if she pushed him into the creature, he didn't want to know what was going to happen. It hadn't done anything to her—but she apparently couldn't see it. What would it do to someone who _could_ see it? He pushed her away, and she looked greatly offended, but the creature was mere feet away and still slowly reaching for him.

Then the rest of the Gryffindor team rushed at him from Jonah and Pallie's side; they were poised to knock him straight into it.

"_Circumpulso!_" cried Albus, whipping out his wand and jumping to the side just in case.

The other members of the Gryffindor team were knocked off their feet by the circular pulse from the aptly-named Pulse Charm, and they slammed into the mud on their faces. Professor Desulgon's favorite charm worked wonders, but it hadn't affected the dog-man at all; it wasn't deterred in the slightest, always moving at him with the same slow pace.

Albus ran forward and grabbed his broom as the other members of his team loudly vocalized their complaints to his little prank. He launched himself into the air and landed next to Wilcox.

Wilcox edged away, apparently afraid Albus was an imposter or something; Albus quickly extracted his wand.

"_Expecto Patronum!_" he said, as the other teachers in the area extracted their wands in response. They relaxed when his silver coyote flew out into the rain and disappeared into the clouds; Albus heard a deafening hiss from the pitch.

"Did you hear that?" he said, panicked, looking down at the creature.

"Hear what?" asked Wilcox. "Albus, what's wrong?"

"Plenty," said Albus. "You didn't hear that hiss? Maybe it was reacting to the appearance of my Patronus…"

"What was?" asked Wilcox, standing up and extracting a wand. "Is there something in the pitch? A Kinderaith?"

"I don't know why, but only I was able to see it," he explained hurriedly. "Roxanne ran right through it, in fact. It was like—some sort of ghost dog, but it looked like a man. It made me feel all cold inside, almost like a Dementor, but instead of despair I was feeling… just fear. What the hell is down there? It's moving slow as a slug, but moving towards me, and my Pulse Charm didn't—what is it? Do you know what it is?"

Wilcox had begun staring at him with mingled horror and fascination. He nodded.

"That," he said, turning around to face Auchland and Professor Longbottom, "sounds like the description of a Hellcrawler."

"You mean a Slowdevil?" grunted Auchland.

"You mean a Creeping Demon?" asked Professor Longbottom.

"Everyone knows it by a different name," said Wilcox, "but everyone knows it."

"Like father, like son," said Professor Longbottom.

"Come on, Albus," said Wilcox. "Let's get you inside the castle."

"Is it going to follow me in there?" asked Albus, shivering.

"Oh yes, of course," said Wilcox. "But don't worry—they're not the speediest of monsters. It'd take nearly half a day to get to you. Come—we'll explain more inside."

O

"Tell me what that thing was," said Albus, as soon as Wilcox charmed his robes dry. He was in a classroom on the seventh floor with Wilcox, Professor Longbottom, and Auchland.

"That was a Hellcrawler," said Wilcox. "Also known as a Slowdevil, Creeping Demon, Hellstalker, and more. Every culture across history has known them. Stories of the Grim, in fact, sprang from this creature."

_So I wasn't too far off the first time I saw it,_ thought Albus. "Well, what do they do?" he asked.

"They kill you," said Professor Longbottom.

"Technically, no," said Wilcox casually as Albus blanched. "They don't actually _kill_ you, they tear out your soul and lay eggs in it."

Albus blanched further.

"Don't worry, they only do that when they catch you," said Wilcox. "And they're easy to outmaneuver, as you probably saw. Goodness gracious… it's a good thing you were awake when it got close… and an even better thing you saw it out there! You should have told someone the second you got the Shivers! If you hadn't told anyone and you went to bed tonight without seeing it today, it probably would have caught you while you were sleeping!"

"Is that what my cold spells are called?"

"Yes, it's called the Shivers when you get a Hellcrawler close enough," said Wilcox. "When it arrives within your near vicinity—about half a day away, or twelve hours—you get these terrible cold snaps in your body to warn you it's coming."

"What do we do about _this?_" asked Professor Longbottom. "He's got to stay at Hogwarts, but he can't exactly stay in one place when it's right here…"

"I'm getting to that, but we've got a good amount of time," said Wilcox. "So I figured he might as well know what's coming. It's called a Hellcrawler because it crawls towards you slowly with the intent to end your existence. But they move so slowly that some people go years without even knowing they're being stalked. And it's not like anyone else would notice and warn you—it can only be seen by its chosen victim. They are attracted by the scent of danger, and it will choose a victim who is in a lot of constant danger. That would be you, Albus. Your life has been in so much peril, so often, that you've attracted a Hellcrawler. That's pretty impressive for a teenager, honestly."

"Great," said Albus. "Do I get an award for that?"

"You get eggs laid in your soul if you're not careful," said Auchland, smirking.

"How do you get rid of them?" asked Albus. "There _is_ a way to get rid of them… right?"

"It would just be the one," said Wilcox, "so thankfully there's no _them_ here, just _it._ And yes, there is a way to disperse them—defeat the danger that's following you, and the Hellcrawler will lose your scent and won't bother with you anymore. It'll disappear. The problem is you have to get rid of a large portion of the danger in your life, and unfortunately that's coming from multiple sources right now… the Sandbloods, IMW, and Herpo the Foul, among others who undoubtedly have your scent but who move a sight faster than the Hellcrawler."

"No other way?" asked Albus.

"No other way," repeated Wilcox. "The danger must be defeated. Of course, someone else can defeat the danger for you—your father lost his Hellcrawler when Adelina Nelson dispatched Ingot."

"My dad had one of these things on his trail?" asked Albus.

"He did indeed," said Professor Longbottom. "Actually, it was the least of his worries during the Dark Revival, and never actually posed that much of a threat to him. We think it may even have started chasing him during Voldemort's time, lost him for a while, and then picked him back up when Ingot showed up."

"He never told me that," said Albus, frowning.

"It's not something people like to remember," said Professor Longbottom. "Even after it goes away, any time you remember the Creeping Demon, you get the Shivers again. Most people just block it out of their memory. Strangely enough, you can't extract memories of the Creeping Demon. It creeps back into other memories if you try to remove them. It's a pretty terrifying phenomenon, but thankfully, not quite as terrifying as it could have been if it moved like a human."

"Oh, and I should mention, walls won't help you," said Wilcox. "Neither will magic. It just waltzes right through walls and barriers and is unaffected by any known spell, except for the Patronus, which makes it lose your scent temporarily."

"So, this thing won't stop chasing me until the Sandbloods, Herpo the Foul, and the Man in the Shadows are all dead?" asked Albus, feeling as though this was hopeless.

Wilcox furrowed his brow. "Or until it catches you. But we're going to do our best to make sure that doesn't happen, so… yes. I suppose everyone you named would have to either kick the bucket or somehow end up reforming their evil ways and joining the good guys."

"So, dead," said Albus. "Or would imprisonment help?"

"I don't know if we'd be able to consider imprisonment anymore as an option," said Wilcox. "There was a fierce enough debate over whether to put Siobor to death. He's still in prison only because he was declawed, and the Sandbloods can't use magic to escape so we're holding them, too. But if we capture Herpo the Foul, for instance… I don't know if we could possibly see fit to keep him alive and in good health after all that he's done—"

"It's not our place to kill people, even the least innocent people," said Auchland. "The Auror Office would never sink to the enemy's level in that way."

Professor Longbottom glared. "It's not sinking to the enemy's level," he said. "The enemy has descended low enough to kill innocent people. Killing the enemy is not descending to their level, because the person we'd be killing is nowhere near innocent. That's much the same reason that it's okay to be intolerant of intolerant individuals."

"I would argue that it _is_ descending to the enemy's level," said Auchland firmly. "If we start executing criminals, where do we stop? Killing only people who kill? There are crimes worse than killing. What rules do we set for executing people? How sure do we have to be of their guilt in order to do it? It's much simpler to not do it at all."

"Forgive me if I'm wrong," said Wilcox, "but when we're considering the safety of further innocent lives, I'd think it would be better to go with what will prevent more tragedy from occurring… not what is _simplest_ for logistical purposes."

"The _logistical purposes_ have incredibly far-reaching ramifications for the rest of society and history," spat Auchland. "But what would you know?"

"Yes, what indeed," mused Wilcox. "What _would_ the headmaster of two schools for a combined eighteen years know about leadership?"

Albus snorted, and Auchland shot him an extremely dirty look.

"If you ask me, I'd say get rid of any of 'em as soon as we can," said Professor Longbottom, grinding his teeth. "When you take an innocent's life with full intent, you've given up your right to your own life, in my humble opinion. If we lock them up and they escape to kill more people, I think _that's_ when we're guilty of murder. But that's beside the point. Speaking of besides the point, why are you even _here,_ Obydin? Albus has the Headmaster and his Head of House; we're plenty enough to deal with this."

"I'm Defense Against the Dark Arts instructor," said Auchland, "and I feel my opinion is needed so that there's at least one competent voice among us."

"True, your opinion does tend to bring out the most competence in everyone else," said Wilcox. "Don't bother, Neville, it's like trying to dislodge a feeding tick."

"Excuse me?" said Auchland.

"Anyway, we should figure out what to _do_ about this," said Professor Longbottom. "We can't just keep Albus here, but we also can't just send him away—it'll find him wherever he goes."

"I've already got a plan," said Wilcox. "And a Plan B, too."

"Let's have it, then," said Professor Longbottom.

"You know the old legend of the Hellcrawlers?" asked Wilcox. "The Bait Charm, specifically?"

"I know of the Bait Charm, but I'm not familiar with the legend," said Professor Longbottom. "The Creeping—er, the Hellcrawler will respond to the Bait Charm, too?"

"So the legend tells us," said Wilcox.

"But do you really think that's a good idea?" asked Professor Longbottom. "Of all the people on whom to cast the Bait Charm…"

"Well, anyone with a Hellcrawler is bound to be a terrible host for the Bait Charm," said Wilcox. "But no one is, really. That's why no one ever _uses_ the Bait Charm."

"What's the Bait Charm?" asked Albus.

"Don't interrupt," snapped Auchland. "Five points from Gryffindor."

"Albus, thank you for reminding me to explain to you about the Bait Charm," said Wilcox, "thirty points to Gryffindor. You should know and fully accept what we would have to do. We'll also have to inform your parents—this isn't something you should take on lightly. The Bait Charm sends out a quick signal from your body. Every single person who is looking for you will suddenly be alerted to your exact location. Just as the Deluminator allowed your Uncle Ron to Apparate to his best friend and future wife, anyone who is looking for you will be able to Apparate exactly to you. It's exactly what it sounds like—you're like bait for a large number of enormous fish."

"That sounds like the most idiotic charm ever invented," said Albus frankly.

"Well, you wouldn't normally cast it on yourself, that would be asinine in almost any situation," said Wilcox. "You can cast it on an enemy to bring immediate backup, or you can cast it on a friend to set a trap for an enemy. Nowadays, most people don't even take the bait, suspecting a trap, unless they've been forewarned that a friend might make an attempt to cast it. But here's the thing that might make the spell of use to us: I've read lore that says that the Hellcrawler will teleport very close to you if the spell is used on you. That's supposedly the only thing that will ever make it move faster than normal."

"So we go halfway across the world, summon it there, and then come back here so that it has to travel as far as possible to get back to him?" asked Professor Longbottom.

"That would be my plan," said Wilcox. "If that doesn't work, I have other ideas. But it should… I've researched these sorts of legends my whole life. The only problem is the effect of the Bait Charm…"

"The Loch Stock Liner," said Professor Longbottom. "Use the Bait Charm right as it's about to submerge. Would that work?"

"Yes, but we'd also have to be in a secure location," said Wilcox. Somewhere nobody can Apparate in or out of the school, just like Hogwarts."

"Would that stop someone like IMW?" asked Professor Longbottom.

"Possibly not," said Wilcox. "We'd have to submerge immediately, as you said, but… hold on, let me Connect this to you instead."

He extracted a wand. "_Tranousodia._"

Albus's head jerked back and he nearly flew right off of his chair; flashes of green and red exploded in his vision like fireworks.

"Albus—Albus!" shouted Wilcox. "Are you all right? What the hell happened?"

"I was about to ask you," said Albus, rubbing his forehead and eyes. "What was that spell?"

"That was the Connectivity Charm," said Wilcox. "That's what I meant by 'I'll Connect you.' I've used it on you before—on the Sandblood raid mission in your third year. It's not a spell that's supposed to cause any harm at all!"

"I don't know," said Albus. "But I'm okay now. Did it work?"

_I don't know,_ echoed Wilcox's voice in Albus's head, though Wilcox wasn't moving his mouth. _You tell me._

"Yeah," said Albus. "It is working. That was weird, though."

"Are you sure you're all right?" asked Wilcox. "There's always something strange going on in your mind…"

"It felt like a punch to the head," said Albus.

"Sore wound?" asked Professor Longbottom. "Your head has gone through a lot. I wouldn't be surprised."

"Shoot, I bet that's it," said Wilcox. "That's happened before, to people." He thought for a moment. "Did you see flashes of color?"

"Yes, red and green," said Albus. "Is that important?"

"No, it just confirms what I imagined," said Wilcox. "We can keep this Connectivity going… but no one should use that spell, or any other spells that affect your mind, on you for a while."

"Like what else?" asked Albus.

"Confunding Charm," said Wilcox. "Imperius Curse, though I don't imagine that'll be a problem. Hopefully. Memory Charms, too."

"Those don't sound like spells I'd encounter normally," said Albus.

"Again, I hope not," said Wilcox. "Just letting you know. Anyway…"

_Back to business, _thought Wilcox into Albus's head.

_Right. What did you want to tell me that you didn't want anyone else to hear?_

_Just a plan of mine. But it won't work if anyone else knows, because then any enemies of yours would have time to prepare the same way we would. We'll put you in one of the Slumber Suites._

_What's a Slumber Suite?_

_You can pay extra to be instantly put to sleep and wake up when the Liner reaches your stop, _thought Wilcox._ But it's also used for transport of special cargo—for anyone magically searching the ship from the outside, it always appears empty. The Bait Charm will therefore alert your enemies to your presence in the instant we use it, but they won't be able to find you once we're there._

_This seems pretty complicated._

_Your life is pretty complicated, Albus._

_That's true,_ thought Albus, smirking. _And what if somebody wrecks the whole Liner to get to me?_

_The Liner is hazard-free since 1883. Er… technically. Besides, the Liner can stay underwater the whole time, in fact. You'll be quite safe. We never even have to surface at all. Use it and go._

_You said we would be going somewhere far around the world—in a place where no one could Apparate in to find me. Do you have an idea as to where that could be?_

_Yes. Camatkara, in India. Lake Kalajila is where the Liner can stay._

_That works,_ thought Albus. _But it'll come back, right?_

_Yes. You're going to have to do this every so often… When the Hellcrawler gets too close again, we'll transport you away to do this same process again. Probably somewhere different, though, so that no one catches on… But you made quite a few friends around the world over this summer! I'm sure we can find others willing to help._

_How long before it catches back up to me? Am I going to have to do this every weekend for the rest of my life?_

_Heavens, no! It'll be at least a year before it comes back again._

_A year? Seriously?_

_They move at about two feet per second at their fastest, and they slow down even more when they get closer. I calculated this once—with a world circumference of about 25,000 miles, to get to someone all the way across the planet, it would take just over a year. About fifty-four weeks. We won't even have to worry about the Hellcrawler again until summer._

_Sounds good to me! Are we completely sure it's going to work?_

_No._

_Oh. Great._

_It's all right, Albus—I've studied wizarding mythology for a long time, and I've prided myself on my ability to parse fact from fable. I'm confident, just not completely sure. After all, your father was the first to get stalked by a Hellcrawler in over three hundred years. Times have changed—the original remedy used to be to kill yourself before it got to you so that you could at least progress to the afterlife._

_Well, at least that's outdated. Okay, I trust you._

_Thank you, Albus. We should contact your mother and father now._

_We should let James know, too._

O

"No fair!" pouted James. "Why does _Albus_ get a Hellcrawler? That's badass!"

"It's not a _pet,_ James," said Ginny. "No one should be excited about having their soul potentially torn out!"

"It's like a medal of honor," said James. "What do I have to do to get myself one?"

"James, I absolutely forbid you from endangering yourself just to get a Hellcrawler!"

"Heads up, everyone, we're here," said Milo. "We have to be very quick about this. Only Albus can see the Hellcrawler, and we don't know where it'll appear. If it appears inside the Liner, don't worry—if we move, it won't move with us; it'll stay in place as we submerge."

"Then we have to be really careful," said Harry. "If it appears, say, _below_ us, and we start traveling downwards, we don't want to run Albus directly into it and do its job for it."

"The chances of that are slim," said Wilcox. "I believe it will appear right on the twelve-hour circle: exactly twelve hours away from Albus. He'll get the Shivers, and that will inform us whether we've succeeded. We should do this as soon as possible—we don't want anyone to find out what we're doing."

"Right," said Harry. "Because if anyone finds out that Albus is being followed by a Hellcrawler, they could potentially use that against us. We don't know any other ways to summon them, but there could be more we don't know."

"Then let's do it," said Wilcox, raising a wand. "Is everyone ready? Albus, are you ready to take a lookout, considering you're the only one who can see it? Keep your head on a swivel."

"I'm ready," said Albus.

"Three… two… one… _Lers Alertis!_"

Albus felt absolutely nothing at all. The prospect that someone could cast this spell on him and he wouldn't know it had happened was frightening enough to become a new source of paranoia.

A few seconds passed; Albus felt nothing.

Wilcox turned to Milo. "Go," he said. "We can't stick around here, even if we don't have a conclusive result."

Milo nodded, and whistled once quickly. Apparently, even though they were in the Slumber Suite in the cabins, someone underwater outside the ship was able to hear the whistle. They sank further down in the waves; they were headed down to Digher Straits again.

And then, suddenly, Albus's bones turned to ice again, and he clutched his arms, shivering.

"There it is!" said Wilcox. "That's the Shivers—we've pulled it all the way here! Albus, you won't have to worry about that thing again for a year."

"Good to—"

He was suddenly cut off by a giant dog-man form passing through the floor of the Liner cabins and out the ceiling, five feet from his face.

"What—did you see it?" asked Wilcox. "Was it in here?"

"Just now," said Albus, nodding. "It went up through the floor and out the ceiling."

"Well, that was… a closer call than expected," said Wilcox. "But—at least the desired effect was there! It can't travel through the earth, considering all the molten rock—anything magical is stopped by magma. It'll have to come all the way around to get you. You have a year without it now."

The Liner surged forth at its fastest pace, ready to return them to Hogwarts.

"What would we do without the Liner?" sighed Harry. "It's saved our sorry arses so many times… I didn't even know it existed when I was in school. I didn't grow up in the magical world, so I didn't hear about it, and the Weasleys never took it; it was too expensive."

"It still is," said Ginny. "Of course, exceptions have to be made sometimes…"

"Hey, we do what we have to do to stay afloat in the business world, so to speak," said Milo. "And remember, we're always here for you when _you_ need to do what you have to do, you know?"

"Yes, and thank you," said Wilcox. "By the way… not that I'm worried, but, you'd know if someone got on board, right?"

"Of course," said Milo. "Our sensors are built to detect non-catalogued entry, any magical concealment at all, and even unauthorized motion. We'd know if someone was on here who wasn't supposed to be here, don't you worry."

"Okay," said Wilcox. "I'm just…"

"Understandably nervous," finished Harry. "We all are. And for good reason—why else would someone in my family get a Hellcrawler on their trail?"

"Stay safe, Albus," said Ginny. "If anything happens to me and your father, stay at Hogwarts, okay? You're definitely safe there. Your brother would take care of you if anything happened to us."

"I hope that wasn't intended to make me feel better," said Albus.

"Hey!" said James.

"Nothing's going to happen to you," said Wilcox. "Rather… nothing bad, at least. We've come through these hard times before, and we'll do it again."

The Liner began to surface again; they popped up in the Black Lake, a very familiar sight by this point. Albus stepped out onto the deck.

He looked down to see the giant squid staring at him from under the waves. He raised a hand and waved hello to it; the squid raised a tentacle up to a point just below the surface and swished it back and forth in response, creating tiny little whirlpools on the surface above it.

"Potters!" called Professor Longbottom, running forward and waving his hands.

"Hello, Neville," said Harry cheerily. "What's got you so worked up, then?"

"Thought I should give you fair warning," said Professor Longbottom. "_You-Know-Who_ is waiting inside."

"Voldemort's back?!" yelped James.

Harry sighed and shook his head. "Worse," he said. "_Rita Skeeter's_ back. I see she's following through on her threat?"

"She mentioned a threat, yes," said Professor Longbottom. "Though, you know, not many people take her very seriously anymore…"

"Still," said Harry. "As Head of the Auror Office with the other You-Know-Who waiting to take charge if I lose public support, I really can't take many chances… I think we're going to have to let her have her way for now."

"What?" asked Albus. "What's going on?"

He recalled Rita Skeeter from his father's stories, but from her being Professor Desulgon's friend, and considering the help she'd given him and Alec the previous year, he assumed she had learned the error of her ways a little bit.

"She'd like to speak with you, Albus," said Professor Longbottom, and Albus's stomach dropped out. "Yeah, I'm sorry about that…"

"And she's threatening Dad?" asked James. "Isn't that illegal?"

"She's not threatening me physical harm," said Harry. "She wants to publish a really slanderous article about me, but now she's using it as blackmail. What she wants to print isn't true, but that's not what matters—what matters is that it unfortunately _sounds_ like it _might_ be true… and we really don't want anyone losing trust in me, because that means Auchland would move back in."

"What is she threatening to print about you?" asked James.

"That he had an affair with Alana Falagair," said Ginny. "Obviously completely false, but there are a few things Rita's picked up on that have made it difficult to prove she's lying. Alana's Patronus, for instance, is the biggest."

"That's ridiculous," said James. "Can't you just tell the world she's an unregistered Animagus and let the authorities take care of her? Why didn't someone do that a long, long time ago?"

"She'd drop the article off with the nearest publisher before fleeing the country," said Harry. "We'd be extremely hard-pressed to find her even if we wanted to—she knows we're busy with far more important things, and she can turn into a _beetle,_ of all things… there's no way we'd catch her. And it would look an awful lot like we're trying to stop the truth from getting out… even more people would flock to her cause, read her article, and believe it."

"We can't take any chances," said Ginny. "So we're asking you a huge favor, Albus… will you go talk to her?"

"I will," said Albus. "I'll do it."

"Thank you so much," said Harry earnestly. "Be very careful. Look her in the eye. Don't fall for her little mental tricks. Don't falter, don't get nervous, and don't use sarcasm. She'll take it seriously and publish it. Got it?"

"Tacit," said Albus. "My most dangerous mission yet is a go."

"Come with me, then," said Professor Longbottom as Albus climbed down the ladder.

"We love you so much, Albus!" called Harry and Ginny from the Liner as they walked to the cabins.

"Oh, sure!" said James. "And I'm chopped liver!"

"We haven't said goodbye to you yet!" responded Ginny.

Albus sighed and walked forward towards the castle. It was still lightly raining.

As soon as he entered Hogwarts, he heard a girlish squeal of delight, and saw a woman decked in green clasp her hands together, her eyes glistening mischievously at the sight of him. She was getting older, but fervently defying the progression of age with copious amounts of make-up which made her look entirely fake.

"Albus Potter!" she declared. "Master of all the Earth!"

"Er—what?" asked Albus.

"You defeated Dismiusa, lady of nature," explained Rita. "That makes _you_ conqueror of nature. Master of all the Earth!"

He was about to respond with _Sure, I guess it does,_ before remembering what his father warned him about sarcasm. He could just see the headline appearing: _Albus Potter claims he is ruler of the world!_

"Let's have a chat, then," said Rita. "I assume your father accepted my terms?"

She walked forward, placed a hand behind Albus's back, and dragged him into a closet nearby, slamming the door.

"Rita, I don't think we can allow this!" called Professor Longbottom behind the closed door. "This is highly inappropriate!"

Rita shifted herself in the cramped space as Albus examined his surroundings, highly confused. "Relax!" she yelled back. "You confiscated my wand when I got here; I'm unarmed… though I suppose it is true that the pen is mightier than the sword…" She dropped her voice. "So, let's get right to it, where were you last Easter?"

Albus barely stopped himself from flinching. "Excuse me?"

"I asked you, where were you last Easter? I mean, I already know, I'm just confirming. The Hourglass Empire, yes?"

Albus opened his mouth. Intending to say something along the lines of _How the bloody hell do you know that,_ he instead said, "The what?"

Because she may _not_ have known that. She could have been baiting him. Guessing his location from Easter and pretending she knew it, to get confirmation as to whether she was right or wrong by his response.

"The Hourglass Empire," said Rita, narrowing her eyes. "Ooh. You're good. Tough nut to crack. Would you describe yourself as a nut, Albus Potter, and if so, what kind?"

"Excuse me?" said Albus again.

Rita's quill sprang from her hand, as did the parchment; the former began scribbling furiously on the latter.

"Mark my words, I will get a story on that," said Rita. "But I came in at an excellent time, because I smell another story developing! Where exactly were you just now?"

"I was—on the Loch Stock Liner," said Albus.

"I know that," said Rita. "I saw you over in the Black Lake. But tell me, to where were you traveling in the middle of the school year like that?"

"It's not the middle of the school year," said Albus, trying to buy himself time to think of a better response. "More like, a quarter of the way through."

"That's beside the point," said Rita. "Answer the question, please."

"I was—at Camatkara," said Albus, cringing mentally on the fact that his decoy response was, in fact, where he actually had been. "Visiting the school again. They wanted me to sit in on some classes."

"Ah," said Rita. "They have Saturday classes?"

"Sometimes," said Albus, his heart rate picking up. At least the rain had made him wet so that she couldn't tell if he was sweating.

"Good thing you caught that Snitch pretty early, then," said Rita, smirking, and leaning closer to him; in the tiny little closet, she was inches from his face. "Otherwise you would have missed your appointment… How, pray tell, did you know exactly when you were going to catch the Snitch so that you could make it to those classes?"

Albus froze, nearly getting the Shivers again just from Rita's triumphant sneer.

"I didn't _have_ an appointment," said Albus quickly. "I went over there randomly, at the least expected time. If I'd made an appointment, then someone who was watching me would have known exactly when I was going to leave, so they could have ambushed and attacked me. We didn't want anyone to know when I was leaving."

Rita leaned back again, twiddling her fingers.

"I'm interested in which classes you visited," said Rita. "Tell me about them, if you would. I'm sure my readers would be interested as well."

Albus launched into great detail about the set-up of the classes, because he had in fact visited Camatkara while their classes were in session. He avoided talking about the material covered—even though he had been there for some of the lessons, he pretended that the language barrier had prevented him from knowing exactly what material they were learning over there. Otherwise, Rita could have run the details by the school and figured out that he was lying—that he was relaying information from classes he'd observed two months ago, not two hours.

"Nice to hear," said Rita. "What brought this on? Why'd you go—specifically, why did you go _back,_ as I heard you went earlier in this year?"

"I'm considering going to graduate school there," blurted Albus, and it wasn't a bad grasp for straws. "I wanted to see more of what they did there."

"Fantastic," said Rita, rolling her eyes. "How splendidly your cover-up has been put together, that is."

She waited for her quill to cease its furious scribbles, then she snapped her fingers; it leapt back into her hand, and so did the parchment on which she was writing. She tucked them both into her coat.

"Perhaps I'll interview your sister next," she said. "I'd love a piece on all three of the Potter children… and I'd also love to see which one of you cracks first. I know you lied and are still lying and would continue to lie if I continued to ask…"

"What do you mean?" asked Albus, with as innocuous an air of innocence as he could muster. "I've told you what happened, in the way that it happened."

"The press is a ferocious foe to face, Albus Potter," said Rita, "and we will eviscerate the truth from you eventually. No matter how long it takes. Believe that. You'd best save yourself the trouble. But you may go."

Albus stood up quickly and ran out; he nearly smashed into Wilcox, and they walked off together; Wilcox said something about joining him and Professor Longbottom for a discussion up in Wilcox's office. No doubt, Rita thought, that they were going to go tie up those loose ends that the Potter boy undoubtedly left.

Rita smirked. She probably still had a headline somewhere in there. _Is middle Potter child mentally ill? Boy responds to most questions with "What" and "Excuse me."_

She took out her quill and scribbled a few of those down, just to make sure, but then the door suddenly opened, and who should walk back in but Albus Potter himself.

"Albus," she said sweetly. "You decided not to join Professor Wilcox in his office?"

"Correct," said Albus. "I just… I had a question for _you._ But it's not something you're going to want to publish."

Rita raised an eyebrow. "We'll see about that…"

"Well, it's about you being an unregistered Animagus," said Albus.

Rita placed her quill and parchment down, next to her on the box on which she was sitting.

"I'm listening," she said curiously.

"I heard my dad talking about that," said Albus. "I was wondering… if you could transform for me."

"Excuse me?" asked Rita, her brow arching higher.

"I want to see how it's done," said Albus. "I'm… I'm studying to become an Animagus myself. But no one can know that. If you reveal me, I reveal you, okay?"

"That sounds reasonable," mused Rita. "You want me to transform for you?"

"Yes," said Albus. "I want to see if I can learn anything from watching you do it. Lucas Lotor in my year is an Animagus, but I'd like to see it from someone else… and when you transform back, if you could maybe tell me how you did it?"

Rita laughed. "What are you going to do to me if I do? Stick me in a jar?"

"Undoubtedly you've taken precautions about that," said Albus, shrugging. "Like telling a friend to send your article on my father to the Daily Prophet if you don't check back within a few days, because that would mean we're holding you captive. No, you'd be a step ahead of me. I wouldn't do that."

"You're a smart boy," said Rita. "Sure—I will do that for you, if you really want me to."

"I do," said Albus.

Rita cracked her neck to each side and then shuddered her arms; she shrank continuously, speeding up until she was compressed into a tiny beetle, which hovered in the air on quickly beating wings.

Without hesitation, Albus shot a hand up and seized Rita, threw her on the ground, and smashed a foot down on the beetle with a greasy crunch.

The imposter disguised as Albus grabbed up Rita's quill and the parchment on which she'd written her account of the interview, turned on the spot with further crunches from the beetle's husk of a corpse, and Disapparated right out of Hogwarts, leaving only a streak of insect guts on the floor.

* * *

_**Well, the letter "Y" barely won last chapter, by a single vote over a five-way tie for second place! The votes were really spread out; there were a couple scattered guesses for letters, two each for N, R, I, O, and L, and three for Y. And I think I know why it's Y today: Enough people have already figured out what the first word is. Yes, there is one Y in that first word!**_

_**ALBUS POTTER AND THE A._.Y.S.S.A._ _._._._.E._**_

_**And one person has already guessed the whole thing... They PM'd me their guess (THANK YOU for not spoiling it in the comments :D) and it was correct! Nice work!**_

_**Also, I plan on finally going back and doing the Q&As for the last chapters of Book 5, and getting up-to-date on Q&A for chapters of Book 6, either tonight or tomorrow. I go back to school next week so I should do that now before I lose the large chunk of my free time.**_

_**So, guess another letter in your review! (you guys haven't guessed any letters wrong yet!) (But remember, no single-letter reviews, please!)**_


	7. Secrets and Lies

_**Quick note: Last chapter I named the guys in the fight with Sylvester "Simon Smokehart" and "Earl Nasture" but I accidentally confused them with the names of people who were to be referenced in THIS chapter. Simon and Earl were Slytherins who graduated with Louis and Gil's class (Simon was Eftan's mentor). The names were supposed to be Ross Delle-Smith and Darren Randall who got in the fight with Sylvester. That's since been changed, but I just thought you should know that in case you read the names in this chapter and think "hey, wait, weren't those the guys from last chapter?"**_

* * *

CHAPTER SEVEN

SECRETS AND LIES

O

"I don't believe it," said Rose, gasping as she scanned a couple pages into the _Daily Prophet_ on the Monday after Albus's excursion to rid himself of the Hellcrawler. "Rita Skeeter did it. She released the article on your dad!"

Albus dropped his spoon into his cereal. "She did _what?_"

"The bullshit article about Harry Potter having an affair?" said Lucas, grabbing his own copy of the _Prophet._ "No. She didn't, did she? I thought Albus said that she said she wouldn't?"

"But really, how could we have even thought to trust an insect like that?" said Rose, grinding her teeth. "Ugh. I can't believe her!"

"Oh, man, it's in here," said Lucas, shaking his head. "But… no one's gonna believe this, right? How could anyone believe this?"

"Merlin," muttered Albus. "Let me see that…"

Rose handed him the _Prophet,_ shaking her head.

_IS HARRY POTTER HAVING AN AFFAIR?_

_Special report by Rita Skeeter_

_Questions were risen when Harry Potter visited seventeen-year-old Alana Falagair at Hogwarts before she even graduated, with the intention of recruiting her. Alana Falagair's best friend at Hogwarts, Adelina Nelson, was known for being the next Dumbledore, and was supremely talented in every way. Completely overshadowed by her far more talented (and attractive) friend, and often teased by not only bullies but also the pair's friends, Alana clearly fancied herself the Ronald Weasley to Nelson's Harry Potter. In this case, though, this Ronald Weasley wanted to get with the real Harry Potter (but can we rule out that the real Ronald Weasley never did that, either?)_

_A small amount of Falagair's history can be found in my upcoming book, _Adelina Nelson: Saint or Sinner? _where I discuss the strong possibility that Nelson and Ingot were involved in a romantic relationship that went sour, causing Nelson to commit a murder-suicide. But upon further digging, I discovered that though Falagair's face may be plainer (quite a sight plainer, I might add) than Nelson's, their stories are quite as interesting. For example, they both lusted after an older man: Falagair wanted Potter._

_Even from the beginning, Falagair and Potter were having secret meetings, where Potter self-proclaimed that he was "showing her around the place" (showing her around what place exactly, he did not care to specify). Evidence from the present day suggests that these secret meetings between only Potter and Falagair are still occurring, though she has also recently spent very much quality time in the company of Dalton Desulgon, professor of Transfiguration at Hogwarts and perhaps the most well-known Diwandologist of the present day. Evidently she cannot be satiated by just one celebrity, even if that celebrity is Harry Potter._

_Witnesses also report seeing Alana Falagair producing a Patronus in the form of a stag a year and a half ago during the Dismiusa catastrophe at Hogwarts._

"_She didn't want to cast a Patronus at first," recalls Simon Smokehart, former Hogwarts student who was a seventh year at the time of the invasion. "She refused even as the Fokii was bearing down."_

"_She wanted to conceal the form of her corporeal Patronus almost more than she cared about whether the people around her lived or died," said Earl Nasture, who was also a seventh year Hogwarts student at the time. "If you ask me, that speaks to a secret she desperately wanted to keep. I think that was the moment she gave away the affair that must have been going on for almost twenty years."_

_Members of the Auror Office at the time also recall Potter spending copious amounts of his free time with Alana—something that apparently still continues. Potter certainly doesn't even spend quite that much time with his wife! He tells his family that he is working, but how often have we seen him out there actually fighting the evil?_

"_Well, he is away a lot, he's working very much and I'm proud of him," said Ginevra Potter to me while I was Polyjuice disguised as her mother. No doubt we can read this as Ginevra's heart-rending confession of a loveless marriage. She still continues to convince herself that he's away "working," without realizing that what he is working on is, in fact, Falagair._

Albus stopped reading and threw the paper down in disgust.

"Good idea to stop," said Lucas, looking up from his own. "It gets worse."

"Well, at least she can't blackmail any more interviews out of us, since she gave up her leverage," said Albus, heaving a sigh. "She had threatened to go after Lily next."

"That's awful," said Exo. "What did my dad say?"

"He said he was proud of me for not letting anything slip, and that he was going to send a message to Camatkara telling them to support my story if Rita asked them," said Albus. "And to come to him if I needed anything else. So did Rita write anything in the _Prophet_ about just me? Or is she saving that for later?"

"Nothing in here about you specifically," said Lucas. "But that's probably coming next, so you might want to brace yourself for that."

"Yeah," agreed Albus. "Hey, by the way… Does it seem quieter in here than usual to you guys?"

Albus, Lucas, Exo, and Rose all stayed quiet for a moment, and listened to the surrounding noises of breakfast.

"Actually… yes," said Rose. "Now that you mention it… it's seemed quieter in here for the last few days. What's been going on?"

"Check out the Slytherin table," muttered Exo.

Albus glanced over his shoulder, down to the far side of the Great Hall where the Slytherin table was against the wall. The older students tended to choose the seats closer to the exit of the Great Hall, since it was easier to come and go; Albus scanned down the table to see who was doing what, and what Exo was talking about.

The first years, the second years, and many of the middle-aged students were engaged in usual discussion. But the older students were all dead silent, slowly picking into their food and keeping their gaze oriented at the table. None of them were interacting with each other at all.

"What the hell?" whispered Albus. "Slytherins usually keep to themselves a lot more… but this is ridiculous…"

"And they usually at least talk to each _other,_" said Rose.

"Maybe they had a party last night," said Alec, who was sitting just a few feet away at the Ravenclaw table as usual, and who was evidently listening in to their conversations as usual. "Like, a big alcoholic party, you know, and they're all hungover? Maybe that's why they're not saying much."

"I don't know," said Albus. "They don't look tired or anything like that. They just look… _dead,_ honestly."

"Weird," said Alec.

"Weird," echoed Albus and the other Gryffindors.

As they left for History of Magic, Albus noticed Sylvester and some of the other Slytherin sixth years getting up for whatever class they had first thing in the morning. He nudged Sylvester's arm as Sylvester passed him.

"Hey," said Albus. "What's up with your House? Everyone's gone silent as the grave."

Sylvester stared at him, blinking slowly.

"Sylvester?" asked Albus tentatively.

Sylvester's eye twitched.

"Are you okay?" asked Albus. "Hey, why did you get in that fight on Saturday?"

Sylvester breathed in deeply, and exhaled slowly.

"Sylvester?" asked Albus again. "What the bloody hell is going on? Why aren't you saying anything?"

Sylvester growled fiercely in frustration, then turned and stormed off with the other Slytherins.

"Now I'm a bit more worried," said Exo, staring after Sylvester.

"I feel like this can't be good," said Albus. "I don't know why, but this makes me nervous. All of the Slytherins turning lifeless at the same time? What could possibly have caused that?"

"Even if we do find out the general cause, I still wouldn't understand Sylvester, though," said Exo. "I mean… we know him pretty well by this point, and he has _never_ acted like that, _ever._ Not even saying a word to you, and just leaving rudely like that?"

"Wait," said Albus, realizing something that made him even more convinced that something nefarious was happening. "He just… left without saying a word. Not even saying something like, 'Sorry, I can't talk about that' or 'I don't know' or something. And he didn't look angry at me. He just looked… really _frustrated_ about something."

He remembered this feeling better than anyone else in Hogwarts, he was willing to bet.

"What's your point?" asked Exo.

"That's exactly what would happen if he was _under the Fidelius Charm,_" said Albus. "That's exactly what happened to me. Maybe he wanted to tell us—maybe he was trying to tell us what was wrong—but he _couldn't._"

"What?" asked Exo, scratching his head. You really think that could have happened? That's… a serious spell. What need would anyone have to put all of the older students of one House under the Fidelius Charm? I can't imagine any situation where that would be necessary."

"I wasn't saying they all were," said Albus. "Maybe just Sylvester."

"Why's that?" asked Exo.

"He's Muggle-born," said Albus idly. "The only Muggle-born in Slytherin…"

"I can't imagine that having to do with anything," said Exo, "considering he's an heir of Slytherin."

"Maybe he found something," said Albus. "I don't know… in the Chamber of Secrets or something? He's the only one in Hogwarts who can currently get down there, and I remember him saying he used to go down just for fun every so often in our third year… Maybe he went again and found some secret of Slytherin. I don't know, I'm just guessing here, I don't have much to work with."

"And you think that might have something to do with all of the Slytherins becoming weird and even more distant than usual?" asked Exo. "That sounds so weird, but… it's just… This whole thing really makes no sense, so I guess none of the theories we come up with are going to make any sense either…"

"I know I literally have no reason to believe anything I just said," said Albus, "but… do you think I should tell your dad about this?"

"Yes," said Exo, immediately and resolutely. "He'd want to know of anything weird going on. On the off chance that this could endanger Hogwarts in the future, even if it's a very small chance, he'd want the chance to nip it in the bud."

"Okay," said Albus. "I'll go pay him another visit."

Throughout his Monday, which was as grueling as all of his Mondays, Albus considered what he would say to Wilcox. He didn't have anything concrete to tell the Headmaster, but a strong feeling was telling him he needed to bring it up. This feeling grew during lunch and dinner, when he noticed the same situation. None of the older Slytherins were talking to each other, or anyone else, at all.

Albus's day was fairly packed, but once he reached the end of Diwand Spells, he had several hours before Astronomy began. He started up towards the Headmaster's office, stepping up onto the first set of stairs.

"Albus?"

He paused, and turned around. At the bottom of the stairs was Alana; she'd appeared there quite suddenly. He kept a hand ready near his wand, but waved hello with the other hand.

"Would you mind coming down to talk with me for a while?" she asked. "I have a favor to ask of you…"

Albus hesitated for a moment; Alana picked up on it, and she raised her wand in a direction away from him.

"_Expecto Patronum,_" she said, and a silver stag bounded from her wand for a moment before it disappeared into the air. Now red in the face, Alana gestured for him to come down. Curious as to what this was about, but suspecting it had something to do with the article that had just appeared in the _Prophet_ that morning, Albus complied, and she led him towards some unused classrooms.

Albus felt very uncomfortable being out here, and even more nervous when Alana ducked into one of the unused classrooms, but he also knew that Alana was one of the few people his father trusted. She loved Harry enough to produce a Patronus parallel to his; she wouldn't do anything to harm him or his family, Albus was confident.

"I'm going to need a _big_ favor," she said softly, closing the door. "If you're up to it, that is. It… it could be a little risky."

"I'm no stranger to risk," said Albus. "But I'd also prefer to avoid it whenever possible…"

"I know," said Alana. "Thankfully, this shouldn't be a life-or-death situation. I need you to… well… I need you to get something from Professor Valon's storage of potion ingredients for me. It's called a Thermax blossom. But… you need to do it without Professor Valon knowing… or ever finding out."

"What?" asked Albus, blinking rapidly. "Steal something from the storage? Why can't you just ask him to borrow it… or find it somewhere else?"

"It's really very rare," said Alana. "And I can't have anyone know I'm brewing something; I can't let anyone know what I'm brewing. For reasons that I can't tell you, Albus… I'm sorry. You'll just have to trust me."

Albus stared at her. "Wait," he said. "Let me get this straight. You want me to commit a crime for you. Stealing something from a professor. And you're keeping your reason for this a secret from me?"

"Trust me," said Alana. "Please."

"You're making that very difficult to do…"

"I know," said Alana. "Also, I need you to keep this a secret from your friends. Don't tell anyone you're doing this, unless you _absolutely_ need them to help you accomplish this. And if anyone else does know, don't let anyone else touch the Thermax blossom after you've touched it, or they'll catch fire."

"That sounds extremely dangerous," said Albus. "What about you?"

"I'll be wearing special protective gloves," said Alana.

"And if Professor Valon has touched them? Will I burst into flames?"

"He won't have," said Alana. "The Thermax is very sensitive. The person who touches the Thermax blossom first is the only one who can hold it, and… look, just trust me. He won't have touched the Thermax yet, I promise. I really need you right now, Albus. Please."

Albus sighed. Alana was acting incredibly suspicious now, too… He recalled that she had been a Slytherin while she was at Hogwarts. But he couldn't imagine Alana being connected with anything bad… She idolized his father. Her Patronus had taken his form, for the love of Merlin.

"All right," said Albus, and Alana released a breath she had been nervously holding. "But… if don't get a clear chance, I'm not taking a chance. You'll have to wait if I can't do it right away."

"I need it sometime in the next two weeks," said Alana. "Or the potion is going to spoil… and there are a lot of really important and hard-to-find ingredients in it…"

"I'll do my best," said Albus.

"Thank you," said Alana. "Thank you so much. This is… I'll tell you one thing. You'll be very glad you did it. I'm… I'm going to help out a friend of yours."

"A friend of mine?"

"I can't tell you much," said Alana. "So that you don't have to lie if someone asks you. Especially since… I don't know… I'm going to be in a lot of danger soon. I need to finish this before… before they start coming for me. And they're going to start coming for me. We've made sure of that…"

"Alana, what the hell are you talking about?" asked Albus, getting nervous again.

"I'm rambling," mumbled Alana, shaking her head. "I shouldn't be talking anymore. My head's not… Go, go on, get out of here. No—wait—I'll make sure no one is around. I don't want anyone to know you were talking with me."

She flicked her wand up in the air quickly. The door flashed blue.

"Go, and hurry," said Alana. "When you have it, place it in this bag."

She tossed him a little black silk sack.

"The bag will transport itself back to me once you've placed something inside it," said Alana. "So all you have to do is place it in the bag, and then walk out of the room. So even if Professor Valon thinks you might have taken something, there will be no evidence. Okay?"

"All right," said Albus.

"Then get out of here!" exclaimed Alana, flicking her wand again; the door flashed blue again. "What are you waiting for?!"

Albus rushed out of the classroom.

He didn't stop until he was in front of the door to Wilcox's office; thankfully, he had made sure he knew the password this time.

"_Road Runner,_" he said.

"No Kinderaiths this time, I hope?" said the gargoyle, jumping aside.

"Nope, and hopefully nothing worse, either," responded Albus.

He knocked on the Headmaster's door.

"Come in," said Wilcox brightly.

Albus opened the door and waved hello.

"Albus!" said Wilcox. "Oh, boy… As much as I enjoy seeing you, it hasn't usually been for such great reasons lately…"

"I know, Professor," said Albus. "And I hate to ruin your day, but…"

"Ruin away, the day's almost done," said Wilcox. "What is it this time? Fokii? Kinderaiths? Another basilisk?"

"No," said Albus, and even though he'd spent all day thinking about it, he still didn't have a very good way to phrase it. "See, sir… I couldn't help but notice…"

He paused for a while, and Wilcox folded his fingers and gazed at Albus over them, listening intently.

"My friends and I noticed, that is," said Albus. "We noticed… we were noticing…" He paused again.

"This isn't another Fidelius Charm, is it?" asked Wilcox curiously.

Albus laughed. "No, I'm just bad at saying it. Though… the Fidelius Charm was one of our theories… See… we had to notice it, because it was so… The Slytherin students in the upper years…"

Wilcox raised a judgmental brow; Albus knew he was wondering where this was going, and he had to spit it out. He had been ready to explain this in full, but the encounter with Alana had scattered his brains.

"None of them are talking to each other, sir," said Albus. "We noticed it at breakfast after we had all remembered the Great Hall being particularly quiet over the weekend. It was like that at lunch and dinner, too. All of the Slytherins are just… very closed off lately. I feel like… something's going on."

Wilcox didn't react at all; he just continued to stare at Albus the same way that Albus had been staring at Alana just a few minutes earlier during _her_ explanation.

"I know, it sounds weird," said Albus. "But… I figured there couldn't possibly be a good reason for all of the Slytherins to suddenly shut themselves off from everyone else. We tried to ask Sylvester about it after breakfast—he's been friends with us for a while. But he didn't say anything to us. Not a word. He just stared at us for a while, then left looking really angry. I think… I think it was the Fidelius Charm."

Wilcox scanned Albus's face carefully.

"And… what exactly do you think is going on?" he asked. "Or have you not gotten to that point yet?"

"I haven't, sir," said Albus. "But I don't think it can be good."

"Do you think it can be bad?"

Albus shrugged. "I really don't know."

"I don't, either," said Wilcox. "I'd like to say I'll look into it… but I have no idea what you're asking me to look into."

Albus shrugged. "Again, I don't know that."

"Again, me neither," said Wilcox. "I want you to consider this question… What would you have me do about this?"

Albus focused his mind for a moment, but he came up with nothing.

"You're not suggesting I spy on my students to find out if there's a particular reason they're all a little quieter than usual, are you?" asked Wilcox. "I mean… I'm as much into safety and security as the next person, but… I don't think I'm technically allowed to do that, even as Headmaster."

Albus bit his lip nervously. Wilcox was not looking happy.

"And really, all that brought you up here was the fact that they were quieter in the Great Hall than usual?"

"And Sylvester, sir—"

"Would you have come up here, Albus, if the Hufflepuffs had stopped talking all at once?"

Albus was taken aback; was Wilcox accusing him of—of anti-Slytherin bias?

"Yes, sir, I do believe I would have done that," said Albus. "It was just too weird—"

"Albus, if you can give me a reason to look into why Slytherin House has become a little less social than normal, then I will look into it," said Wilcox. "If their Head of House, Professor Valon, foresees a problem or becomes worried about the House's dynamic, then he will take action against the issue. Please only speak to me about this again if you actually have a substantial cause for worry, not just 'it felt weird.'"

"Typical Gryffindor mentality!" snorted Phineas Nigellus Black. "Always quick to pass judgment on the innocent Slytherins! You do know that your father himself, Albus Potter, merits a Slytherin as the bravest man he has ever known?"

"Phineas," said Wilcox, placing a hand on his face.

"You would have come to Professor Wilcox if it was the Hufflepuffs?" continued Phineas. "Poppycock! You would have asked your friends in Hufflepuff what was wrong, you would have tried to reach out to them!"

"I _did_ try to reach out to them, I asked Sylvester!" argued Albus.

"Ah, yes, you asked _one_ Slytherin and got a poor response," barked Phineas, "and then you immediately assumed that all Slytherins are a helpless cause—"

"Phineas!" shouted Wilcox. "That will do. Albus, you may go. I am not telling you that I do not value your concerns, but I will inform you that I wouldn't like to hear about this again in the future. If it needs to be addressed, Professor Valon will address it and I will hear about it through him. Thank you for your concern. I will see you again soon enough, I'm sure."

And he gestured to the door.

O

Albus got up from his bed; he was unable to sleep. The strangeness of the day was weighing heavily on his mind. He reached into his bag, got out the Marauder's Map, and headed out to the common room, where he perched in one of the cushy armchairs by the low, flickering light of the fire.

He opened the map up. There were at least a few questions he could answer right now… One was in the Slytherin common room. But as he checked, everyone's dot seemed to be in the Slytherin dormitories, sleeping soundly. Red Pierce wasn't there, but he could have been patrolling the hallways as Head Boy…

He scanned the map, looking for Alana. If this was as complicated a potion as she made it sound, she would probably be tending to it often; since she couldn't get away much during the day while she patrolled Hogwarts, she would have to do it at night. He raked his eyes across all corners of the map…

There she was—in a secret tiny room behind one of the tapestries. He'd never known there was a little room past that particular tapestry… but since it was on the map, it must have existed when the Marauders went to Hogwarts. Alana seemed to have made her home there… she was moving back and forth ever so gently, possibly stirring a cauldron. Every so often she would move backwards more—reaching for an ingredient to put in the potion?

He memorized the location of Alana's little hideaway, and vowed to visit it later when she wasn't there. If she was hiding something from Albus Potter, she had to expect he would try to find out what it was… Maybe his Potions expertise could tell him what sort of potion she was trying to make based on the color, texture, ingredients, or other properties. He also made a note to look up the Thermax blossom in the library sometime, if it wasn't something that appeared in the Restricted section. If he took out a Restricted book on Thermax blossoms and then Professor Valon noticed one missing… it wouldn't be hard to tell where it had gone.

He noticed a spider scurry across the wall. He eyed it curiously… Perhaps he could try the Vessel Charm again? The sooner he could become an Animagus, the better, and he suspected using the Vessel Charm to experience the world through the eyes of an animal could only help him, based on what he had learned from Lucas so far. It was all about feeling like the animal, being in the animal's world.

But no—he recalled Wilcox's words to him from earlier. It probably wasn't wise to use a spell involving his mind; there could be some whiplash. The downside to this was obvious now; he couldn't use the Vessel Charm or any other spell that involved his mind. The upside, though, was that if someone was messing with his head—someone like IMW, perhaps—he'd know if it was happening.

A yowl from just outside the portrait hole caught his attention. It sounded like Gimmick's signature "Come over here NOW" cry, and Gimmick repeated the noise several times in a row. Albus stowed the Marauder's Map in his pocket and ran outside to the portrait hole; he opened it, and Gimmick rushed in, rubbing against his legs.

"Hi there," he laughed, scratching under Gimmick's chin; the cat purred noisily. It then leapt back out the portrait hole, and looked back at him.

"What?" asked Albus. "You don't want me to go on another night-time adventure with you, do you? How did you even know I was awake?"

He tensed; could he even be sure this _was_ Gimmick?

Gimmick blinked his eyes very rapidly—way too rapidly for a cat. Albus stared at Gimmick, and at once he somehow began to understand. Eyes… Gimmick was blinking his eyes, he was answering Albus's question. Gimmick had seen him. But how?

Gimmick placed a paw on his eye briefly, and then lowered it back down.

Gimmick was _talking_ to Albus.

What was he trying to say?

Albus closed his eyes. Was he still able to see through Gimmick's eyes with the Vessel Charm? Had that worn off? He might suffer a backlash from trying to tap into the Vessel Charm's power again, but he needed to know whether this was actually his cat in front of him…

He transported through a dark tunnel in his head; he landed in Gimmick's mind, and he was staring up at himself; his body was motionless and he had a strange, distant look on his face. No, that was his cat down there.

He shot back into his own eyes; that was interesting. The Vessel Charm still worked—maybe it worked permanently until you used it on another animal? Thankfully he hadn't succeeded on using it against the spider. The other strange thing was that he had been fine; it hadn't affected his head at all. At least, he thought it hadn't.

"All right, come on," said Albus begrudgingly. He gave the map a quick once-over; seeing no teachers patrolling in the general vicinity, he set off after Gimmick, who walked quickly in front of him. Gimmick bounded down the stairs, full of energy, while Albus trudged sleepily behind. Gimmick stopped every once in a while to allow Albus to catch up, shooting him annoyed looks.

They reached the first floor; Albus ducked behind a tapestry as Professor Desulgon passed. He had forgotten to take the Invisibility Cloak, which was probably idiotic. That would have saved him a lot more hassle… Professor Desulgon either didn't notice Albus or didn't care that he was back there, and continued on his patrol.

Albus watched Professor Desulgon get far enough away on the map, and then ducked out from the tapestry. Gimmick ran out from the tapestry in front of him and headed down towards the dungeons.

"This is familiar," said Albus. "You're not going to lead me down to another Dismiusa… are you?"

Gimmick trotted in the exact same direction that he had gone when he led Albus to Dismiusa.

Against his better instincts, Albus continued to follow Gimmick. They trotted down a long hallway, and Albus knew where Gimmick was going to stop before they stopped.

Gimmick stopped walking right in front of the same wall that Dismiusa had been hiding behind when she was trapped in the castle.

"It's not… her again, is it?" asked Albus, worriedly; Gimmick stared at the wall. He had been purring most of the way down, but he wasn't anymore.

"Should I get Wilcox?" asked Albus.

Gimmick looked directly at Albus, and then pressed his front paws against the wall.

"You think I should go in?"

Gimmick tapped his paws against the wall several times.

Albus walked up to the wall. He saw the dustless streak on the wall, and he followed the spiraling line with his finger again. Was this a good idea? He'd nearly killed himself with Fiendfyre last time he opened a sealed doorway, and this particular passage hadn't been very safe in the past… But Dismiusa was gone, wasn't she?

Then why did Gimmick bring him here?

He looked at Gimmick, who was bobbing his head up and down. Gimmick seemed to very much want him to go down there.

He finished dragging his line across the streak, and the wall melted away, revealing the passage again. He descended down the spiral staircase, his heart thumping against his chest like it was throwing punches at him.

Gimmick was sitting in front of the door again, but he wasn't staring at the door as he had been doing when Dismiusa was there. He was staring at Albus instead.

There was a strange noise coming from behind the door. A steady, beating sound. He approached the door extremely cautiously, and put his ear against it.

The sound was metallic, mechanical, like the grinding and shifting of the wheels on the Hogwarts Express, fluctuating periodically, growing slightly louder and slightly softer. There was another sound—the hiss of steam, and the faint bubbling of a boiling liquid.

Albus leaned back from the door and stared at Gimmick. Gimmick shrugged and ran back up the stairs.

Albus sprinted back up the staircase after his cat; he had a horrible feeling about staying here any longer. If that door was unlocked again, he didn't want to try opening it. He ran all the way back up to his dorm without even bothering to make sure there were no teachers in his path; in fact, he might have felt better if he'd bumped into one. He gave a very concerned Fat Lady the password and ran to the sixth year boys' dormitory; he jumped into his bed, dripping with sweat. But he had now completely thrown out any chance of ever getting to sleep tonight.

What the _hell_ was going on now?

* * *

**_Well, I didn't get around to the Q&A yet, big surprise. I'm also kind of behind on responding to PMs so I apologize for that too. But I'll try to do those ASAP!_**

**_Anyway, 6 R's won out over 4 L's, 3 B's, a couple of N's and an I. And guess what? There is an R, and I think it'll be the final key to unlock the name for some if not a lot of you... I'm pretty sure you guys will end this without having guessed a single letter. I thought it was tough for a Hangman but I didn't realize how many common letters were in these words :)_**

**_ALBUS POTTER AND THE A._.Y.S.S.A._ _._.R._.E.__**

**_I saw some people say they were having a hard time seeing where the break in the words was, so note that the first word is A._.Y.S.S.A._ and the second word is _._.R._.E.__**

**_Good luck!_**


	8. The First to Fall

_**Sorry I haven't been making Saturday. This week, it was packing for college and moving back in. I always underestimate how much time it'll take to do that.**_

_**The rest of the one-shot "Penny for Your Thoughts" may or may not be uploaded tomorrow. If not, hopefully very soon. But I can't make any promises. I do want you to read it, though, because it's very important! If you're not following The Hourglass Empire, I'll put an announcement in this spot on the next chapter as to whether it's been uploaded yet.**_

_**Also, most of the Q&As from Book 5 are done, and I'll be finishing those up tomorrow night (maybe!)**_

* * *

CHAPTER EIGHT

THE FIRST TO FALL

O

Albus returned to Wilcox the next morning to detail the noise he'd heard around Dismiusa's old door. Wilcox took Professor Valon, Professor Desulgon, Professor Plinky, and Professor Longbottom down to the hidden passageway the next day, but they didn't report hearing anything behind the door. Several Aurors joined them in scanning the door and opening it back up to check, but there was nothing inside. All the same, they all worked to seal the hidden passageway as best they could, so that nothing could get in or out of it, just in case.

Albus also kept a close eye on the Marauder's Map for some time after Alana's request. Alana was hanging about her little tapestry constantly over the next two weeks. Albus had fully intended to sneak in and take a look at the potion before giving her the Thermax blossom that she'd asked for—he wanted to know what she was brewing before he took part in it. If this went wrong, he'd be an accomplice.

But Alana rarely strayed too far from the tapestry, and when she did, she came right back. Either she was paranoid about someone finding the potion she was brewing, or she was expecting Albus to do exactly what he was doing. When Alana's deadline of two weeks started approaching quickly and Albus still hadn't gotten enough of an opening to sneak a peek at her potion, she began giving him frantic looks in the hallway, and he knew he was going to have to steal the Thermax without knowing what the potion did yet. He was just going to have to trust Alana, as she requested.

On one dark and rainy Friday, Albus slipped into the back storage room of the Potions classroom under his Invisibility Cloak after having pretended to be excused for the restroom. He held his breath the entire way, certain that Professor Valon would somehow notice that something invisible was heading towards his precious supplies, but Professor Valon was too busy yelling at every single Slytherin in the classroom for how little they'd done all class, and in every class for the past two weeks.

The storage area was magnificent but incredibly unorganized. There didn't seem to be an efficient cataloguing system, or Professor Valon was extremely scatterbrained. He stepped cautiously all around so as not to crush the plants which had grown over the sides of their pots and were now sprawling around the room; he scanned the tags on the pots, looking for the Thermax. It suddenly occurred to him that Alana had told him absolutely nothing about what it looked like. All he knew was that it would have a blossom. How in the hell did she expect him to find a plant he'd never seen before among what was literally hundreds of plants? He stepped forward, and his foot nudged a jar full of eyeballs that was lying sideways on the floor.

"Is someone there?"

Albus froze to the spot under the Cloak.

Thank Merlin he hadn't taken it off—there was a portrait of an older woman on the wall in the back of the room, and she was peering curiously from behind spectacles that were thicker than Galleons. She swept the room with her eyes, then leant back and sniffled. She pretended to lean back and stop paying attention, but Albus could still sense her eyes moving about the room.

Albus crept forward with incredible caution; one more sound or one moved object and she would probably start screaming for help. He walked ever so slowly towards the back of the room, searching for the plant, knowing that he had to move at a snail's pace but that he also couldn't be gone too long or Professor Valon would start to worry. Particularly because his potion couldn't be sitting for longer than seven minutes, or it would start to boil over. If he was gone longer than five, Professor Valon would probably send someone out to find him in the lavatory and make sure he was okay, and then they would realize that he wasn't there and he'd be the first suspect if they later noticed something was missing from Valon's storage. He had known it would be a risky job, but he hadn't appreciated how risky it was going to be until just now.

He crept along the narrow passage between the shelves, looking around for the Thermax blossom. The potion ingredients weren't grouped by type—there were plants everywhere instead of each type of potion ingredient being concentrated in one area—and they weren't alphabetically arranged, either. How could Professor Valon ever find anything in this room?

But if things were this disorganized, maybe that could be to his advantage… After all, if Professor Valon ever had to send someone in here to find something for him, they would be at risk of touching something they shouldn't… There would have to be something warning people of the danger of touching some of these plants… Just like in the back room of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes on Diagon Alley, there was a sign that said "No fire in the back room" to warn people not to set off the fireworks. Wouldn't there be a sign on the Thermax telling everyone not to touch it?

He turned to look at the next shelves in front of him, and lo and behold, on a ledge just barely within his reach, there lay a large plant marked "DO NOT TOUCH." He scurried softly to the shelf and looked up at it. Each blossom was about the size of his fist; they were quavering ever so slightly even in the stillness of the back room. Was this the Thermax? The blossoms were pure white and the bush was an ashy green color. He peered closer, and he could see under the overgrown shelf, there was a little plaque that read "_Thermax: Danger level High. Handling level Expert._"

He started to reach up, but he was faced with a conundrum: How was he going to snag a blossom and get on his way without being noticed the old woman in the portrait at the end of the back room's aisle?

Suddenly, the door opened further again; the sounds of the classroom drifted in more loudly for a moment before the door was closed almost all the way again, and somebody cleared their throat. Albus turned around slowly, holding his breath again, to see Professor Valon walking swiftly towards him down the aisle, on his way to get some other potion ingredient. The passage between the shelves was so narrow that there was no way Professor Valon wasn't going to hit him if he got close enough.

"Zayn!" barked the old woman. "I thought I heard something."

"That would be your imagination, Grandmother," said Professor Valon drearily, advancing on Albus. Albus stumbled backwards, stepping on the Cloak for a moment; he quickly adjusted the Cloak and his stance. He prayed that he wouldn't flash out from under the Cloak and be sighted by Professor Valon, or the old woman who was apparently his grandmother. No such sighting was vocalized, and he continued to retreat down the hallway, closer to the portrait but farther from Professor Valon, who was also taking his time stepping over all of the plants growing on the floor and the jars scattered around the walking area.

"Or perhaps your house of cards is teetering again," huffed Professor Valon's grandmother. "Merlin! You and your father! Birds of a frenetic feather. Might I remind you what happened the last time you let the storage get this messy? I most certainly heard a little creak somewhere just now. I'm waiting for the whole damn room to come down around me at this point! You've got things balanced on the tipping point everywhere, plants growing on the floor, jars just waiting to be stepped on and shattered… You'd better never send a student back here, they'll kill themselves!"

"My apologies for the state of things, Grandmother," sighed Professor Valon, finally turning and grabbing a large blue insect leg the size of a human leg from one of the shelves right near the Thermax. Albus finally relaxed and stopped retreating. "But I really don't have the time to sort everything out…"

"Pish-posh!" snapped Mrs. Valon, swiping her hand through the air like a tiger paw. "When I was Potions master at the Goldwood Academy I never let things get this out of hand! All you have to do is sort everything once and then put it back in its rightful place when you're done! It's not that hard, boy!"

"I'm not a boy anymore, Grandmother…"

"I bet you thought when I died, it meant I'd never nag you again," sneered Mrs. Valon. "Well, bad news for you, boy! I'd invented enough potions to warrant getting my portrait hung in your future workplace! How lucky for you that I'm always here to point out what you're doing wrong! You'd better fix this place up soon, Zayn, or I'll have the Bloody Baron breathing down your neck every night while you're trying to sleep!"

"I'm a bit busy with the Slytherins these past few weeks, I'm sorry," said Professor Valon, stopping by the door with his giant bug leg. "I don't know what's come over them—they and the seventh year Slytherins have apparently decided that they don't have to do any work anymore. I have no idea what's gotten into their heads to make them think that, but as their Head of House, it's my job to either find out what's wrong or kick some sense back into them, preferably both. _Then_ I'll think about cleaning this place up. Understand?"

During Professor Valon's short speech, Albus crept over to the Thermax blossoms again. It might have been a good time to pick a blossom without being noticed, but he couldn't be sure that Professor Valon or his grandmother wouldn't notice the bush moving. The only way to be totally sure they weren't looking at the Thermax bush would be to make a distraction somewhere else… but that would also tell them that someone else was in here, and since Albus had just excused himself for the bathroom, it wouldn't be hard to figure out who. Unless Mrs. Valon's prediction was about to come true…

Albus reached over to the large box of big blue insect legs. It was teetering on the edge of the shelves, as were most boxes, jars, and plants. It wouldn't be too far a stretch of the imagination to suppose that Professor Valon had knocked it just a little bit closer to the edge when he took one of the legs out, and that it had been slowly tipping…

He poked the bottom of the box; it wiggled slightly, telling Albus that it was ready to fall, but it didn't. Professor Valon had turned away and was about to exit the back room again, but Albus would prefer this to be done before he left…

He poked the underside of the box just a little bit harder, and then sprung back as it toppled over the side. The insect legs scattered all over the floor, also knocking into some jars which shattered and spewed their contents about as well. Professor Valon whipped around and stared at the mess.

"ZAAAAYN!" shouted Mrs. Valon. "YOU MISERABLE NUMBSKULL! DIDN'T I JUST TELL YOU THIS WAS GOING TO HAPPEN IF YOU CONTINUED TO LIVE LIFE ON THE EDGE? HAVEN'T I BEEN TELLING YOU FOR THE PAST DECADE AND A HALF?"

"One spill in a decade and a half isn't much to go on," grumbled Professor Valon, stepping back to clear up the mess.

Albus shot a hand up to one of the Thermax blossoms; half expecting it to explode and char his hand off, he plucked it off while keeping one hand on the leaves of the bush to make sure it wouldn't shake too much. Professor Valon and Mrs. Valon were still too focused on the rolling jars and twitching legs to pay any mind, and Albus quietly tucked the Thermax blossom into the bag that Alana had given him; he felt it vanish immediately. He grimaced as he looked back at the bush; there was a glaring absence of a large white blossom that had been there until five seconds ago. He didn't think about that.

There wasn't time to think about it anyway; Professor Valon was approaching to pick up the mess. Albus waited out of range as Professor Valon took out his wand and charmed all of the items back onto their respective shelves while getting berated by his grandmother again, and he left as quickly as possible. Knowing that Professor Valon might be worried that he wasn't back yet, he ducked out as well, squeezing through the tiny gap in the door that Professor Valon had left. Mrs. Valon's mutters to herself were lost as he returned to the cooler air and the chatter of the classroom; he sighed very deeply with relief and slipped out of the classroom again before pulling off the Cloak and reentering. He returned to his potion as though nothing had just happened, but his heart was beating very quickly. It had been way too close of a call constantly throughout the mission, and Alana owed him a huge favor for this one.

O

"It's been a full two weeks since I've seen a Slytherin seventh year open his or her mouth," said Aidan, thumbing through a library book as quickly as he could scan. "You think Professor Valon finally has a reason to talk about this with Wilcox yet?"

"Dad is super-sensitive about anything having to do with Slytherin," said Exo tersely. "We told you this like five times already."

Aidan looked back down at his book.

Rose shot Exo a dirty look, and Exo looked back down at his own book.

There was silence among the friends; Albus nervously pretended to be absorbed back in his own research as well. While Aidan, Lucas, Rose, Exo, Mia, and even Alec were studying for various classes a few Saturdays before the Christmas holiday, Albus was searching for literature on the Thermax blossom, pretending to be doing research for Potions class. He wanted to know what the Thermax did before taking a look at the potion, in case familiarity with the Thermax blossom's use in potions could help him determine what Alana's potion was. He had just discovered an entire chapter on it in one of the library books, which he had been flipping through with interest, but it took him a while to shake off the tension so that he could actually focus on reading it. Once he did, though, he couldn't stop for a while; it was very interesting.

_The Thermax blossom is of the Inflorno family. It is a plant that was discovered and catalogued only several hundred years ago in Australia, and was quickly made illegal for its perceived danger. Only several decades ago was it legalized again when its useful properties were made clearer, but strict regulations still control its cultivation and circulation._

_The Thermax plant is closely related to the Heatmo flower and the Caulifax bush. It is a flowering bush, as one might expect from being closely related to a flower and a bush. It is a small shrub that becomes covered with flowers during the spring, or when conditions are perfect. The second a Thermax blooms, its natural pollinator, the Billywig, is alerted by an instant electric signal. It lands on the Thermax flower to drink the fluid that rests inside. This natural fluid is converted into the Billywig's poison. In the process, the Billywig also pollinates the flower._

_The Thermax blossom is also known for setting anything on fire that touches it. Obviously, this would be very unfortunate for its pollinator, so the Thermax has devised an interesting solution: The first touch each blossom receives will not trigger the fire. Every touch thereafter on that particular blossom will trigger it. The Billywig detects the electrical signal from a blooming Thermax anywhere in the world and aims to be the first creature to reach the blossom; hence why the Billywig has evolved to be so fast. If you stumble upon a Thermax blossom in the wild, do not touch it. A Billywig has most certainly been there before you; experts suggest that the average Thermax blossom is open for all of four seconds before it is pollinated by a Billywig. Other Billywigs will pass by and notice that the fluid inside the flower is gone, and so they will avoid touching it._

_Thermax plants are thusly very important to those who harvest Billywigs for their poison to be used in potions. It is also a popular plant amongst shady Australian youth, who hang around the plants when they're about to bloom, then catch and harass Billywigs in order to be stung and receive the giddying psychoactive effects of the Billywig toxin. The Thermax blossom itself is of use in many potions, but as the blossom can't be touched unless you're the first to do so, it's hard to cultivate. The blossom can be kept in its bloomed state and it will never go away until it is pollinated; if being grown in Australia, to keep the flower in bloom without attracting Billywigs, a simple Freezing Charm is required. (Be warned—though the Freezing Charm sounds like it might cancel out the burning ability, that would be an incorrect assumption. The only effect of the Freezing Charm on the Thermax blossom is to stop it from sending electrical signals to nearby Billywigs.) Note also that if you touch the Thermax blossom, you may put it down and touch it again—only another person to touch the Thermax will invoke the fire._

_The Thermax blossom also has a very peculiar property. The person to harvest the blossom, though that person becomes the only person to be able to touch the flower safely, is also the only person who _cannot_ create or imbibe any potion containing that particular Thermax blossom. It is extremely poisonous to that person once used in a potion, and even taking part in the mixing of the potion will inflict massive burning sores all over the body, from the smoke which is known to seep even through protective suits. If that person imbibes the potion, side effects may vary but will most often result in Eyegrout, extraordinary armpit hair, bellybutton tar, and severe fire flatulence._

_Many "enhanced" varieties of potions contain the Thermax, just as its cousin the Heatmo flower is used in many powerful potions, such as love potions (e.g. Amortentia)._

Albus's eyes stopped moving across the page on the sentence about Amortentia, and his head went numb for a moment.

This was no longer something he could wait to find out.

"I, er, gotta go, guys," he said, standing up. "I gotta… I gotta do something."

Exo stood up with Albus, picking up his books.

A lump rose up in Albus's throat, but he spoke past it. "Er… alone."

Exo slammed his books back down on the table, so loudly that everyone they could see from their table looked over. Madam Kohl peered out from behind a bookshelf with a finger to her mouth in the _shush_ position.

"Sorry, Exo," said Albus, shrugging.

"No, it's fine, I get it," said Exo. "Exclude the werewolf. I understand."

Albus choked on nothing as everyone at the table made faces of shock and revulsion.

"No, don't mind me!" spat Exo, pointing at Albus. "You go have your alone time, and then you and Lucas have your little fun time together without me too, and I'll just sit in my room alone. I get it! I'm not as smart as you all and my condition makes the problem worse. You can't wait until you graduate and you can break ties with me and you don't have to deal with me dragging you down anymore! You don't want to have to deal with someone who gets as sick as I do every full moon… no one does!"

He glared at Rose.

"Are you kidding, Exo?" blurted Lucas. "You really think that has anything to do with it? Albus just has something he needs to do!"

"Yeah, maybe he's just going to go masturbate and he needs privacy," said Alec.

"Christ, Alec, there was no need for that," said Mia, slapping a hand against her face.

"Why are you still going out with me?" asked Alec, looking at her.

Mia laughed and kissed him on the lips.

That was apparently the wrong thing to do; Exo's face reddened even further after Alec and Mia's little display of affection, and he picked up his books again and stormed out of the library.

"I really don't know what's gotten into him," said Rose, pursing her lips worriedly.

"I do," said Aidan quietly.

"Wait, what?" asked Rose, looking over at Aidan. "You do?"

"Well, yeah," said Mia. "Doesn't everyone by now?"

"Nope," said Alec.

"Er… you guys can explain it," said Albus. "I have to go do my… thing."

"Is it masturbation?" asked Alec.

"No," said Albus. "My life isn't simple enough for that."

"Fair point."

Albus turned and stepped out of the library. He quickly checked both ways to make sure no one was approaching. He slipped on the Invisibility Cloak, and then took out the Marauder's Map; his two keys to a perfect silent investigation. He walked up several flights of stairs and navigated his way to Alana's tapestry… She was still patrolling the corridor fairly close to the potion.

Or at least, he assumed the potion was back there. Maybe Alana was just drawing attention to this spot and was actually brewing it somewhere else? But then he recalled just how much time she spent back there, and how little time she spent anywhere else, and he knew it had to be back there. But that might also mean… if her potion was back there, then there was likely to be some sort of defense against intruders. He hadn't considered that point.

He sat against the wall for a while, concentrating. How could he pull this one off without getting caught? What if Alana had some sort of defense that destroyed the Invisibility Cloak? He couldn't risk that one.

But maybe he wouldn't have to…

"Gimmick," he muttered.

Gimmick still had the Vessel Charm on him. Albus could look through Gimmick's eyes as Gimmick explored the room behind the tapestry. Alana probably wouldn't have seen any reason to guard the room against animals entering—what would be the harm in that? Besides, there were very few spells that allowed full defense against _any_ living creature including plants and animals, and they were extremely hard to pull off. No, he had a feeling Gimmick would be able to get through safely.

"Here, Gimmick," he said. But he had to keep himself very quiet, since Alana was just around the corner, according to the map. There was no way Gimmick was going to hear him; cats had superhuman hearing but not _that_ superhuman. He would have to collect his cat and come back.

He sighed and sat in place for a few moments, then began to lift himself up. But just as he'd gotten to his feet, he heard a scampering sound from the direction he'd arrived; he turned to see Gimmick racing towards him.

"Hey, Gimmick!" he whispered, surprised at his cat's timely appearance. He lifted up a fold of the Cloak so that his cat could see his face; Gimmick walked up to him and started rubbing his face against Albus's leg, purring. He bent down again to pet Gimmick. "That was convenient… Unless it wasn't convenient?"

Gimmick did a gesture he'd done before; he placed a paw on his eye. Then, he did something new: he lifted the paw up and placed it above Albus's eye.

Albus had gotten the strong vibe that Gimmick was trying to tell him something when Gimmick first did that; now it seemed beyond debate. Gimmick was definitely communicating something… maybe even the answer to Albus's questions.

Last time, Gimmick had arrived shortly after Albus entered the common room. Now Gimmick had scampered up shortly after he'd called. And Gimmick was placing a paw on his own eye and then on Albus's eye. What was he trying to say?

Did the Vessel Charm work both ways? Was Gimmick telling him that he was looking through Albus's mind the same way Albus looked through Gimmick's? It would explain exactly how Gimmick knew exactly where Albus was.

"Are you looking through my eyes to see when I need you?" laughed Albus, and Gimmick raced up his leg and onto his shoulder, biting the back of his neck playfully. "Holy shit, you are, aren't you, you little sneak? If the Vessel Charm works both ways, Uzu and Poticand never told me… Then again, you are probably the smartest animal anyone's ever cast it on!"

Gimmick purred into his ear contentedly, accepting the compliment.

He glanced back down at the map; Alana was headed around the corner. He pulled the Cloak back over himself and Gimmick fully.

Alana passed them and kept walking; Albus waited until she was all the way down the hall before walking again. He didn't want her to hear his footsteps. He set off in the other direction; she was the farthest from her little tapestry that she'd been in a while. He strode straight up to it, and placed Gimmick on the ground.

"All right, buddy, I need you to go investigate what's in there," he breathed to his cat. "Just go get a good, long look at anything that's in the room. Look at everything long enough for me to figure out what it is, if I can. And come back if I make a _Psst_ sound because that means Alana's coming back. Got it, smarty-pants?"

Gimmick purred stronger.

"All right then, go for it," said Albus, lowering himself down to the ground and lifting up a fold of the Cloak; Gimmick rushed out and used a paw to push the tapestry aside, revealing a small hallway. He rushed inside.

Albus took a deep breath and took out the map, sitting down in the hallway. He'd have to look through Gimmick's eyes for most of the time, but he'd also have to remember to look back into his own eyes and check the map for Alana, or anyone else, really. He was under the Cloak, which helped, but if he was in Gimmick's eyes and somebody tripped over his protruding body, there wouldn't be much left to Alana's imagination if she found out.

Again, he scanned the map carefully; after determining that he was alone for the most part, he warped into Gimmick's mind.

Gimmick had his paws pressed up against a barrier in the middle of the hallway; it was a crystalline barrier that greatly resembled the barrier that was behind Dismiusa's door. He was headbutting it and scratching at it, but no visible mark was left. Gimmick turned around and ran back out the tapestry.

Albus snapped back to his own head and lifted the Cloak again as Gimmick jumped onto his lap, softly mewling with disappointment. Albus scratched behind Gimmick's ears. "It's okay, buddy," he said. "You did your best."

Gimmick curled up in his lap and snuggled his head against Albus's chest.

Albus smiled and then looked down at the map; Alana was heading back in their direction. He lifted Gimmick back up onto his shoulders and stood up so that he could step out of Alana's way if she got too close.

Before she rounded the corner, he heard sniffling; then, she crossed into view. She was a visible wreck; tears were streaming down both sides of her face, and she was wiping her eyes on a very wet sleeve. She was shaking and stumbling as she walked. Something very serious had happened.

Albus ducked around the corner quickly and quietly; he dropped Gimmick off of his shoulders and pocketed the Invisibility Cloak. He walked around the corner as if he had been heading this way all along, and looked over at Alana. Pretending to be surprised to see her there, he walked over.

"Alana, what happened?" asked Albus. "Is everything okay?"

Had the potion gone wrong?

Alana sunk to the floor and pressed her hands over her eyes; she was weeping loudly now, and she was drawing the attention of some of the portraits on the wall down the hall. They were whispering, and one of them slipped away on a path up the stairs, perhaps to get help from somewhere.

Alana looked up at Albus; her eyes were red and puffy, and her lips and throat shook as she tried to get words out.

"H—he's dead," she choked eventually.

Albus's senses sharpened. "Who?" he demanded, more harshly than he'd intended, and Alana recoiled. "Alana, who died? Not—not my dad, or—"

Alana shook her head and let out a few shuddering sobs. "N—n—no," she whispered. "K—Killian…"

"Killian?" asked Albus, the name ringing a bell. "Killian… Aubrey?"

Alana nodded and gasped for another breath with which to sob anew.

Albus closed the distance between them, knelt down beside her, and patted her on the back awkwardly. "There, there," he said gracelessly, having no other idea of what to say to her.

It was a death, most certainly. It was traumatic and awful, but Albus couldn't help feeling… slightly relieved, that it wasn't someone better than Aubrey.

The more he thought about it, the more horrible he knew it would sound if he said it out loud to anyone—especially Alana, who had clearly been really broken up by it. But Aubrey had been nothing but trouble for all of the time that Albus had known him. From getting into fights with Chinch, to Stunning Louis's boyfriend in the middle of Renee and Talia's house, to generally being a negative presence… He had evidently been a highly talented Auror, and they had suffered a really great loss, but the stress level between all of the other Aurors, especially Chinch, was bound to go down. His father had trusted Aubrey very much, though… They'd lost another person they could count on.

But could they have counted on Aubrey? He had been acting very suspiciously towards Chinch. Or was he on to something with Chinch? Could they trust Lynwood Chinch? Had Aubrey stumbled on something he shouldn't have known about Chinch, or had he gotten tangled up with the wrong people? He supposed it wasn't exactly proper manners to ask this distraught woman how her friend had died… Still, though, he had to know.

"Do you know what happened?" he asked tentatively, hoping it wasn't too much of an overstep of his boundaries.

Alana trembled more, shivering in the cold hallway. "He—the blood-suckers got him," she muttered. "They're everywhere. Ten Aurors in the last two months. And so many others, too… We can't… We can't—"

Professor Desulgon had appeared very silently. He leaned under Alana and whispered something in her ear; she nodded and lifted herself up on trembling limbs.

"You should get yourself somewhere where you can sit this out," mumbled Professor Desulgon, and Albus understood this to likely be a disguised command for her to relocate away from the hidden entrance to her potion.

"He was th—the b—b—best of us," wept Alana, and Professor Desulgon nodded as Albus, though remorseful about the death, silently disagreed.

"The best of us are often the first to fall in these circumstances," said Professor Desulgon solemnly. He led Alana away, hushing her and consoling her as she continued to bawl all the way down the hall.

O

"Hey, Parker," said Albus at breakfast on Monday morning, sitting down next to his mentee's brother. "What's going on?"

"Not much at all, really," said Parker. "Scottie said you told him yesterday during a mentoring session that you wanted to ask me something? Sorry—I was visiting Mr. Earle late last night and I didn't get back until most of the dormitory was already asleep."

"That's okay," said Albus. "I was wondering… well, I'll cut right to the chase, I guess… I just think it might be useful for me in my life if, you know, if you could teach me how to read auras… a bit… maybe?"

Parker laughed. "Hey, if you want to learn auras with me even _with_ thirteen classes… How do you have _any_ free time, anyway?"

"I don't have to do a lot of the studying that everyone else does," said Albus. "And I procrastinate."

_If I can make time for my Animagus practice like I have been, I can make some time for aura-reading practice,_ thought Albus. _After all, Lucas says I'm getting really good at all the exercises and I might be closing in on being able to transform… so once that's done, I'll have plenty of time for practicing aura-reading._

"You won't be able to use it like I do, as a substitute for sight, unless you're willing to practice it rigorously for, like, ten years," said Parker. "Because I've been working on this since our first year. I started young, and it's easier to start young… and I've also had an easier time blocking out the other senses to focus on auras, since I'm lacking one of my senses. It's not going to be easy, but I suspect that wouldn't deter someone like you?"

"Your suspicions are accurate," said Albus, grinning.

"Well, then I'd be perfectly willing to give you a few lessons," said Parker. "I'd go into more description on how difficult and time-consuming those lessons are going to be, but I'll just let the lessons themselves speak for that. I'm sure you'll find out rather quickly. And of course, you can change your mind at any time if it starts detracting from your time for school."

"I'll do my best," said Albus. "Thank you! I don't know why, I just get this feeling that maybe I'd need it someday…"

"I say good for you, using your school years to pick up even more skills than what they're offering in the classroom," said Parker. "But, ah, don't go telling everyone about this, okay? I don't really want to have to teach the whole school…"

"Believe me, I can keep a secret like this," said Albus, considering the fact that no one else yet knew that Lucas was teaching him to be an Animagus.

"Excellent!" said Parker. "I'd be happy to take you in any time you wanted, excepting during times that we have class of course… Ah, who's that I read? Exo's coming over! Hey, Exo!"

"Hey," grumbled Exo. "What're you guys talking about?"

"Nothing," said Parker cheerily.

Exo's shoulders fell, and his brow sunk.

Parker detected some sort of aural change, and he tilted his head. "Er… are you all right?" he asked.

"No," said Exo. "Well, if you're doing nothing, then I guess I won't interrupt all this nothingness going on here. I'd get bored anyway. Have fun doing nothing."

He turned and walked down the table, sitting at the most sparsely populated area of the table.

"Geez," said Parker. "What's eating _him?_"

"A lot," said Albus.

He'd have to remember to get a Christmas gift for Exo. A good one—definitely a very good one, to help remind Exo that he still held a special place in all of their hearts.

He knew how Exo must have been feeling—Albus was spending quite a lot of time with Lucas, whom Albus had known for a lot less time than he'd known Exo, and Lucas was his equal in intelligence, if not a little book-smarter. Now that Albus and Lucas were friends, Exo was feeling threatened; and since Albus had been basically his best friend since second year, it was definitely going to be easy for Exo to feel neglected.

He ate the rest of his breakfast wondering how he could make up everything he'd done, even what he'd done unintentionally, to Exo. Then, he headed off to Divination.

Professor Allira was sitting in the center of the room, meditating. She had done this several times since they'd known her, but mostly when it was early in the morning. She would usually wake up and make some sort of dire prediction as they walked in, but this time, she sat completely still for the first _fifty_ minutes of class. It was potentially the most awkward near hour that Albus had spent in any class at Hogwarts, because no one talked at all. No one wanted to disturb Professor Allira and wake her up, or be talking when Professor Allira woke up, so everyone stared either at their teacher on the floor or looked around the room waiting for her to wake up, for nearly a _full hour._

Finally, Professor Allira opened her eyes, and she opened them wide. She was staring straight at Sylvester Alamandrine.

Sylvester stared back at her rather blankly. All of the Slytherins, in fact, were looking very blank, but Sylvester especially; he looked like he had spaced out completely. Professor Allira walked right up to him and hovered with her nose half an inch from his nose, and she looked into his eyes. The Gryffindors watched intently, whispering with each other, but none of the Slytherins seemed to react at all beyond glancing casually at their classmate.

"My boy," she gasped. "My boy! You—you are in terrible trouble!"

The class collectively rolled its eyes; Professor Allira had made these predictions before.

"You must leave," she said dramatically. "Leave the castle. No good will become of you staying here! You must leave at once, and you cannot return while the sun is in the sky! You cannot imagine the consequences of ignoring the signs!"

"I'll take my chances," said Sylvester listlessly.

"No, you mustn't!" cried Professor Allira, clutching her ears as though his disobedience had popped her eardrums. "You must leave the castle, my boy! As quickly as possible!"

"We have Care of Magical Creatures next," said Sylvester. "I'm going outside in ten minutes. That's soon enough, so stop worrying."

"No, but you cannot reenter!" said Professor Allira. "I will escort you outside and I will ensure you that you stay out there for the rest of the day! Class dismissed! I will put a sign outside the door to tell all of my other classes that class is canceled!"

"Professor, I can't just skip all of my classes," said Sylvester more forcefully.

"But you can!" said Professor Allira, pulling him right out of his seat. "I will write you a pass for every class! This is far more important! You are coming with me and we are leaving the castle now! We shall go to Hogsmeade."

She grabbed him by the arm and dragged him out. "Fine!" yelled Sylvester. "Fine! Stop pulling me—LET GO OF ME!"

Professor Allira released him, blinking with shock, and then she went down the ladder out of the Divination classroom again, beckoning him down with her. Apparently realizing that this badgering wouldn't cease, he climbed down after her, shaking his head and sighing.

"Well, that takes the cake for the strangest Divination class I've been in," said Lucas. "And I've been in a lot…"

"I'd have to agree with you there," said Albus. "What do you think that was all about, Exo?"

"You can stop forcing yourself to include me," said Exo. "If you have to pretend to like me you might as well not try at all."

"Exo—"

"Just shut up, Albus, okay? Shut up."

"Exo!" shouted Albus. "Stop—"

"_Langlock!_"

Albus's tongue affixed itself to the roof of his mouth, and he whipped his head around trying to free it. Exo stormed off yet again, and Lucas took out his wand.

"_Finite Incantatem,_" said Lucas, and Albus's tongue detached itself.

"Holy," said Rose quietly. "Oh, no… I really hope this wasn't my fault… Aidan told me what he thought was wrong…"

"Even if he's right, that doesn't make it your fault," said Albus quickly. "I know Exo's probably heartbroken and all, but… if he can't look past that to still be our friend, then that fault belongs to all of us. We need to be better friends for him."

Rose looked away.

They trudged down to Care of Magical Creatures; it was snowing so hard that even if Sylvester and Professor Allira had gone out this way, it would be impossible to tell where they had stepped. The snow had just started early in the morning, though, so even though it was snowing very heavily, there were only a few inches on the ground. But it was accumulating, and those few inches were growing fast.

"No class!" Professor Brewer was shouting outside Faustulus Earle's cabin. "No class—we'll be buried by the time we'd have to get out!"

The snow had begun to clear immediately as he began that announcement.

"Ah," said Professor Brewer. "Or not? But, uh, better safe than sorry, I suppose… Let's just head back up to the castle anyway."

"Aw," said Scott, frowning. "But this is my favorite class!"

"Well, we could have a little special section in some other classroom for anyone who wants a bonus class," said Professor Brewer. "I could teach you about the Kinderaiths, maybe? Those fascinating little creatures that have been popping up everywhere?"

The class generally agreed; Rose and Aidan looked at each other, shrugged, and laughed. "Sure, let's go," said Rose. "Albus, are you coming?"

Professor Brewer looked around. "Say, where's Sylvester?" he asked.

Before Albus could answer Rose and Aidan, and before anyone could answer Professor Brewer, there was a shriek from just outside the castle.

They looked up; the snow had completely stopped for the moment, giving them a clear view all the way to the Astronomy Tower. Two girls, who had been building a snowman, were pointing up into the sky from near the base of the tower. Something was falling from the Astronomy Tower—the figure of a body, which descended rapidly. One of the girls took out her wand and started to shout a spell, but it was too late; the person hit the ground hard. The girls ran to the crash site and began screaming again, but this time they were screaming a name.

"_SYLVESTER!_"

"_NO!_"

* * *

_**Always awkward to put an author's note at the end of a chapter like this... but we've got another hangman letter to do...**_

_**The letter L won with seven votes! Followed by three N's, a pair each of B's and O's, and a T. So, since there is indeed one L, what we have now is this:**_

_**Albus Potter and the A._.Y.S.S.A.L _._.R._.E._**_

_**I've heard some really fascinating guesses... some people have come up with titles I kind of wish I'd come up with myself! But we're closing in on the end here! I love watching people slowly piece it together! So guess another letter at the end of your review, and let's see you guys complete it!**_


	9. The Shadow's Engine

_**Hey, sorry about the delay of upload. I'll try to get the next chapter up sometime this weekend to make up for it.**_

_**Some of you guys messaged me asking if everything was okay. I'll answer all of those messages (eventually) individually, but I won't go into the details here. Everything's good now; I'll probably be back on a regular uploading schedule now, but given my back-to-school workload and the fact that I'm behind where I thought I'd be, I don't know if I'll be able to finish the series by the end of this year like I thought. If I don't, it will be close, though; I'm not going to pull one over on you and take a month's break or anything. I'll work as fast as I can without losing any effort and I'll try to get ahead of schedule so I can keep uploading even in situations like last week.**_

* * *

CHAPTER NINE

THE SHADOW'S ENGINE

O

The Hogwarts Express ride back to King's Cross after Sylvester's funeral was silent and foreboding. The start of the Christmas holidays could hardly have been less merry.

Albus was closely watched by Alana and Chinch as he, James, and Lily exited the train. They kept their hands in their pockets; they were all carrying Portkeys in case a situation broke out in the train station. No chances could be taken any longer.

He spotted his mother rushing towards him at her fastest walk, and she gathered him and Lily up in a big hug. Albus wondered what Sylvester's mother was feeling right now as her only child wasn't returning on the train.

They didn't speak much while they walked to the car, but once the Potters (sans James, who was in Auror training) and Alana and Chinch were in the car, Ginny turned around in her seat.

"I know you must not want to talk about it," said Ginny quietly. "But… your father and I haven't heard much about it… What happened?"

Alana stared out the window, her eyes glistening with tears; Chinch stared at Albus, waiting for him to speak with a look telling Albus that Chinch knew everything he was feeling right now.

"Sylvester Alamandrine… committed suicide," said Albus softly. "That's… that's what they said, anyway. Professor Allira was bringing Sylvester out of the castle because she had predicted that something bad would happen to him if he stayed in there. We found her Stunned on the grounds. Professor Obbin was in the Astronomy Tower, and he said that Sylvester Stunned him, too, and then jumped off the Astronomy Tower. He was killed instantly when he hit the ground."

Lily let out an audible whimper and clapped a hand over her mouth.

"Oh my God," said Ginny, and she was crying, too. "I'm so sorry."

And not another word was spoken for the whole ride back.

Harry pulled the car up to an unfamiliar location; Albus looked up nervously.

"We're moving again," said Harry apologetically. "We're worried that someone might have found us. We're going to have to move quite often."

"Is all our stuff in here?" asked Albus.

"Yes, everything was moved," said Ginny. "By me," she added in a mutter under her breath.

"Harry, a word?" said Alana, looking at Harry pointedly.

Harry looked back to Albus and Lily.

"I just got my kids back from school," said Harry, scratching his sideburns and grimacing. "I've barely talked to them so far…"

"It'll only take a minute," said Alana firmly.

Harry sighed and walked around the side of the house with Alana.

"What's with her?" asked Ginny, furrowing her brow.

"It seemed urgent," said Lily.

"So is family," said Ginny. "I mean… maybe she doesn't…"

"Alana was really freaking out about Killian Aubrey's death," said Albus. "Maybe she was worried the same thing was gonna happen to us, or her…"

"How freaked out?" asked Ginny, looking to Albus.

"Pretty badly," said Albus. "She was bawling."

"Really?" asked Ginny. "I mean—not that I expected her to be _happy,_ but… she always hated Aubrey."

"She did?" asked Albus. "Why?"

"He was horrid to her in school," said Ginny. "He was a year under her. Both of them were in Slytherin. He bullied her constantly—Alana nearly couldn't go on working for the Aurors when Aubrey joined. The harassment continued subtly even then, as Harry told me. The only thing that stopped it was when he disappeared a few months ago."

"Strange," said Albus. "She was telling me that he was a great man."

"She certainly didn't think that when he was alive," said Ginny. "But that's more common than you might think. The good guys aren't always the nice guys. And the bad guys can sometimes slip right under your nose. Take Tom Riddle, for instance—everyone thought that he was an incredibly charming boy. Only Dumbledore saw through it."

"What makes people evil?" asked Lily.

Ginny stared at her.

"Well… that's kind of a big question," she said honestly. "But I'll try to answer it if I can."

She beckoned them into the little house.

They descended into the basement, where Ginny then opened a secret door in the wall and led them down even further. They were at least a hundred feet below the ground when the stairs ended; they were going to be a bitch to climb back up later.

"Bear in mind, kids, that you don't want any unauthorized people to come down this staircase," said Ginny as she opened a new door. "There are multiple trap doors that will open for people who aren't Potters or certified Aurors; they'll be stripped of their wands and sucked down into a Floo-like passage straight into a holding cell. Even an animal, just in case we're dealing with any Animagi."

"That's a neat trick," said Albus as they walked into their bunker. "Hey… this looks exactly like the old one."

"We wanted it to feel like home," said Ginny. "Sit."

Albus and Lily sat down on the couch and made themselves comfortable.

"I don't know why people become evil," said Ginny. "I don't think anyone does. But I'll do my best to explain the circumstances if I can. I think this is an important thing to talk about, especially in the world in which we live today.

"People are born generally with a blank slate. No one is perfect, but most children don't want to grow up to become murderers. Sometimes, it's some sort of brain defect. But when a person is rational enough to come up with successful plots for murder and torture, you really have to wonder how they can possibly not realize what they're doing to other people, or at the very least notice that consequences of such actions are incredibly severe. What, then, makes a man… into a monster?

"Some people have a sort of sick desire for causing others pain. I'll chalk Gallen Ingot up for that one. He was bloodthirsty and vicious, and he was pure evil. But even he admitted, to his followers and to his foes, that he was doing it mainly because it was exciting. It was thrilling, he thought, to be the world's next great challenge, and to see what the world would throw back at him. But he had absolutely no empathy; he couldn't see what pain he was inflicting. Or… rather… he _could,_ but he didn't care. No… I'm not saying this right." She huffed and closed her eyes for a moment, concentrating. "He _did_ care, but… in the wrong direction. He cared about it because he liked causing pain, because it amused him. He just… he wasn't right in the head.

"The love of power is another reason men go mad. That one I'll attribute to Grindelwald. He just wanted power and control, so much that he convinced himself that murder and other such atrocities were all for the greater good. He even played Dumbledore that way, too. Even a man such as Dumbledore fell to the allure of power… though in a different way. Power does things to your head. It changes you. Physically and mentally, as was the case for Gallen Ingot as well. There was nothing left inside of him—when he was gone, he was gone, and there was barely anything left. Just a husk.

"And I think one more reason people turn into monsters is just insanity," finished Ginny. "And that goes along with the other two as well. Each of those three feeds the other. But it can be a subtle insanity as well. It can be disguised as misguided motives—like the belief that you are superior to everyone else and so you have some divine right to rule them… or that some characteristic you possess makes you worthy of power. Like Voldemort, with his belief that purity of blood should be supreme, and even though he himself was only half-blood he was also descended from Salazar Slytherin. It was like he loved blood purity so much that he felt the need to make up for his own impurity by cleansing the rest of the world. A load of bull, of course, but he believed it. We think he really, truly did. Either that or he used it as an excuse—and what an excuse it served for him."

"I thought Voldemort was also incapable of love because he was conceived under a Love Potion?" asked Lily. "That might also have cut off his empathy in general."

"That's a conjectured effect, but it hasn't been proven yet," said Ginny. "Anyway… to answer your question in total… I have no idea. But maybe those three reasons I gave can partly answer your question." She narrowed her eyes. "Revenge, too. That's a big one. That can blind you faster than Instant Darkness Powder."

"Revenge?" asked Albus.

"Revenge," repeated Ginny. "And not necessarily for an actually good reason, either. Like Argo Tytezian, America's Darkest wizard. He was angered over a decision that had recently been made to admit people of color into Hextus Horra."

"It took that long?" asked Albus, shocked. "But that was only, like, seventy-five years ago, give or take a few…"

"And there are undoubtedly still some people who think it shouldn't have happened at all," said Ginny. "Would we call those people evil? I guess it depends on whose point of view… If your mind just cannot process the fact that the color of your skin or your heritage makes people inherently unequal, then you definitely have some problems. Acting on urges to say or do horrible things based on that skewed world image… that really is evil, even if you don't realize it at the time. Intentionally increasing the suffering of humanity in general is what's considered evil, I suppose."

She looked over her shoulder, and Albus knew she was looking for her husband, who still wasn't back from what Alana had claimed would "only take a minute."

"But although we all know what evil is, deep inside us, it's always really hard to put into words," said Ginny. "As you could tell. That wasn't a very good description."

"No, it was fine!" said Lily. "I don't know how much better anyone could have done."

"Thank you," said Ginny kindly. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go make sure your father hasn't been killed up there…"

She left the room.

Lily turned to Albus once their mother was gone.

"Are you okay?" she asked softly.

"Getting there," mumbled Albus, rubbing his temples.

Lily hugged him in close, and then kissed him on the cheek.

"It'll be okay," she said.

"I know," said Albus, appreciating the gesture very much. He hugged Lily again and then went into his room, where he attempted to begin his holiday homework but slumped on the bed and simply fell asleep.

O

Christmas came swiftly, and although Albus had never been quite good enough friends with Sylvester Alamandrine to exchange Christmas gifts with him, he had still been silently hoping that he would see a present from Sylvester under the tree, and realize that everything had been a dream, that Sylvester was alive and well, that someone had Confunded him into seeing that. He had no such luck. Another disappointment came when Ginny bitterly informed the kids that Harry and Alana had been called away last-minute just that morning, and she didn't know when Harry would be back.

There was also no present from Exo, but Albus had pessimistically expected that. He had sent Exo a present that he hoped would remind Exo of their friendship—it was one of two pieces of parchment, of which Albus had the other. One person could write on the parchment and the other could see it on their copy; after a while, the parchment could learn the user's writing style, and respond for the user, if he or she was contacted but unavailable. Albus hoped Exo had opened it and not just thrown it away when he saw who it was from… He sighed and sifted through his own pile of boxes and bags to see who had sent him presents this year—the usual crowd, minus Exo… but plus an extra. This mystery present had a very bad wrapping job, which wasn't labeled. It was fairly thin and small, about the size and shape of a large book, but much lighter. He picked it up and turned it; there was a slight roll of what sounded like a marble, but it only rolled back and forth in one direction… a glass tube of some sort? What was that?

"Start opening your presents, Al!" said James, who had come back from Auror training just for Christmas Day. "I'm already halfway through mine!"

Indeed he was; James had already opened all of the presents shaped like books and had tossed aside all of the ones that ended up being books.

Albus tore open the mysterious package first; the anticipation was killing him. Who could it possibly be from? Maybe a secret admirer at Hogwarts… Perhaps if he opened it, he'd be sprayed with some sort of Love Potion gas. He hoped that the package wouldn't have made it into his house if it was dangerous in any way… He ripped the paper off completely, and was left with a small box.

The sender clearly had no idea how to go about wrapping and sending a Christmas present, because the label with the "To" and "From" was inside the wrapping paper, on the box underneath. Or maybe it was on purpose… Albus looked at the name.

_To: Albus Potter_

_From: Eftan Griffiths_

Albus shook his head. Curiously, he appeared to have completely forgotten how to read, or his head had momentarily scrambled. He took a look back down at the label, and he read the same name under his. He looked up, closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and looked back down.

It still read _From: Eftan Griffiths._

There was no way. What kind of trick were his eyes pulling on him? Was this package five days late? Had Eftan and Exo swapped moods? Eftan had barely even looked at him since second year.

The simplest explanation, and probably the right one, was that one of his friends (he wasn't going to name names, but it was definitely Alec) had decided to play a joke on him… He rolled his eyes and opened it up to see what it was.

Inside the package, there was a beautiful, spotless mirror, lined with emerald with little silver swirls around its edge. He stared at it for some time in wonder; what was this for? Who was this from, and why had they written Eftan's name on the package? It seemed incredibly unlikely that this was actually from Eftan…

Then he noticed the second part of the package's contents.

He lifted out a small vial; it had swirling silver-white strands in it. Someone's memories. Someone wanted him to use a Pensieve—thankfully, his father possessed one, and if this house was really set up exactly the same as his previous lodging, then he knew exactly where to find it. He had no idea what could possibly be in these memories—they were swirling much more rapidly than usual, and there were a _lot_ of them. Someone had a long story to tell Albus, and he was starting to lose his confidence that it couldn't possibly have been Eftan. Was this an apology?

Was this… what had happened to the Slytherins… and to Sylvester?

Sylvester and Eftan had been pretty close for some time—a little longer than Eftan had kept talking to Albus, anyway. A distant memory drifted back to Albus, of the end of his fourth year, where he'd seen Sylvester talking quietly with the Greengrass triplets, and he'd said something about…

…a mirror.

Albus looked at the mirror, and he flipped it over. Two initials were carved into the back.

_A.N._

They were curved and swirly, like the way a teenage girl might mark one of her possessions. This mirror used to belong to Adelina Nelson. She'd given it to Sylvester—he was sure of it—and upon Sylvester's death, Eftan had sent it to Albus.

There was no way he could strike up the patience to find out why. He stood up and headed towards his bedroom.

"Albus, what're you getting up for?" asked Lily. "You haven't opened a single present yet!"

"I haven't… what?" asked Albus, looking down at the open packaging on the floor. "I opened the only one I'm interested in right now…"

"Are you waiting for your father?" asked Ginny. "We don't know when he'll be back, Albus. Come on, open at least a _few_ before you go back to your essays!"

"Er… okay," said Albus, sitting back down. No one seemed to notice that he'd unwrapped a present already… so…

"Open mine first, Al!" said James, leaning over and shoving his to the front of the pile.

"I already opened one, so this isn't going to be the first," said Albus, opening James's present as quickly as possible.

"Yes! Al's opening mine first!" exclaimed James.

"The Fidelius Charm," muttered Albus. It was hiding the present from everyone else… But why, then, wasn't it hiding the present from _Albus?_ Sylvester hadn't been able to say anything to him. Why could Eftan?

Albus unwrapped an Exstruction kit from James, which he was impressed to see—it was much beyond his brother's usual three-second and three-Sickle Christmas presents. It contained quite a few unusual materials that he could combine into temporary wands; what he found most interesting, though, was that this was from a Muggle company called Lego. They had branched out into the magical world after the Global Revelation and were already coming out with products for wizard children. Though it was intended for fun use by younger kids, James noted that it could actually help Albus to study for his A.R.M. classes, more than one of which had been touching on Exstruction in this year's course material. Despite the amount of thought James had actually put into a gift this year, he couldn't focus on any of his presents. He unwrapped them all solely for the sake of getting them all unwrapped. Then, he got up and went to his room for a moment to observe the mirror before plunging into the memories, just in case the mirror was relevant.

He turned it over, and looked at it several times, but it was just an ordinary mirror… for now, anyway. He suspected there was a reason it was sent to him more than just "Happy Christmas," especially considering the identity of the sender. The probable identity, anyway—but it troubled him to wonder how Eftan had got the package sent to his house and how it entered without anyone knowing it was there.

He peeked out of his room, and then left with the vial of memories. He walked swiftly down to his parents' room, and opened up the closet that held the Pensieve. He tipped the memories in, where they began swirling in a gray blur.

"Here goes nothing," said Albus to himself, and he dipped his nose down, then pitched forward headfirst into the memories.

He landed somewhat smoothly on two feet and a hand, and he immediately heard the Sorting hat shout, "_RAVENCLAW!_"

Professor Longbottom looked down at his scroll after the thunderous applause.

"Griffiths, Eftan!" he shouted.

Albus was now sure that this was Eftan's memory—Eftan's present, Sylvester's mirror… it seemed to make sense. Perhaps soon he would also find sense in the fact that what appeared to be the Fidelius Charm was affecting his parents, but not him…

Eftan wandered over to the hat and moved to place it on his head. Instinctively, Albus moved in as close as possible to hear the soft conversation that was taking place. Neither the hat nor Eftan's mouths moved at all, but he could still hear it faintly in this memory of the incident.

"Now, that's… oh, my," said the Sorting Hat. "You're…"

"I'm what?" thought Eftan, looking a little bit panicked but remaining completely motionless.

"Well," said the Sorting Hat. "I've only seen one other like you… but…"

"What?!" thought Eftan. "What about me? What's strange?"

"You are… an exceptional presence," said the Sorting Hat. "I… have no idea where I'm going to put you. I sense… something… oh, dear."

"You're freaking me out…"

"And I apologize for that," said the Sorting Hat. "Listen, Mr. Griffiths. You appear to believe you're not going to Slytherin…"

"You can tell that?!"

"I have to get inside your head to Sort you, so yes," said the hat. "So. You think you're Muggle-born?"

"Yes, I—wait," thought Eftan. "What do you mean, I _think_ I'm Muggle-born?"

"Mr. Earle has some explaining to do…"

"Huh?"

"Tell me what happened when you received your Hogwarts letter."

"My parents told me that they'd been waiting for that day to come for eleven years… I guess they were told I was going to grow up to be a wizard. Mr. Earle came to them when I was born, to tell them."

"That's not something that any Muggle parents are usually told," said the Sorting Hat. "The wizards usually don't even know! So I wonder… why did Faustulus Earle do that? Hm… I sense something buried within your psyche, waiting to surface… something… dreadful."

"Excuse me? What does _that_ mean?!"

"You're going to learn something special about your identity one day," said the Sorting Hat. "And on that day, I need you to return to me and I will tell you where to go from there. Until then, I have one piece of incredibly important advice to give you before you go on from here."

"I thought you were just supposed to do the Sorting…?"

"There come times when I am needed for a much higher purpose," said the Sorting Hat. "I gather that this is one of them. My advice to you is this, Eftan Griffiths: Make friends as fast as you can and as often as you can. Make friends, learn friendship, learn to be loved and learn to love. It is crucially important that you do this, and never forget what your friends mean to you."

"I… I don't… understand… d-do you do this for all of the students?"

"Only the special ones," said the Sorting Hat. "Please, Eftan Griffiths. Promise this old rag that you'll do what I ask. Make some friends, even if you don't want to, and do everything in your power to keep them."

"I'm not really the friendly type…"

"Precisely."

"But—"

"Until then, let me take a closer look at your head… All right. I see bravery, but it is buried, and obscured behind a veil of defensive self-preservation and introversion… You're smart as a whip, though! Quite the sharpened young mind… but is it for the right reasons, the Ravenclaw reasons? Hm… I think not. And Hufflepuff… no, there's definitely a niche for you elsewhere. I think I know where to put you, if you're ready to accept it… It may be challenging for you. Are you up to the challenge?

Eftan shifted around in his seat, and the hat nodded; they both took a deep breath together.

"SLYTHERIN!"

Impassively, Eftan removed the hat, and he walked over to the Slytherin table. Sylvester Alamandrine shook his hand, grinning, and Eftan returned the grin, though Albus could tell it was somewhat falsified.

Objects in the room suddenly began disappearing at an alarming speed, including the people. Different chairs and tables began appearing, and the walls closed in on Albus rapidly; the memory was changing. But it was different than Albus had seen in any other person's memory. Eftan's thinking was so logical, rational, and well-ordered that memories didn't fade in and out indistinctively; the old memory simply stopped and the new one started instantly.

Eftan was now sitting alone in a small classroom at Hogwarts. Albus lifted himself up from the ground, and realized that Eftan was still shorter than usual… This must have been some time ago as well. Second or third year? He walked over to the books that Eftan had, and noticed the presence of an A.R.M. book—it was third year. Probably the beginning of it, though, seeing how young Eftan still looked.

The door burst open.

"Thought I wouldn't find you in _here,_ eh, Mudblood?" said Red Pierce, strolling towards him.

Eftan turned and lifted himself out of his chair, raising a wand, but Red Pierce's cronies, Darren Randall and Ross Delle-Smith, were right behind him.

"Relax, we're not going to hurt you," said Pierce, smirking. "Well… physically, we're not. Mind if we join you for some… _studying?_"

"Studying with a Mudblood?" chuckled Darren, smirking. "We'll have to remember to shower afterwards…"

"Takes more than a shower to get rid of the stink of Mudblood," said Ross.

"Boys, be nice," said Pierce. "They've got feelings, too… We could be arrested for animal cruelty if we keep saying things like that."

"Get out of here," said Eftan, his eyes narrowing.

"Make us," said Pierce. "You want to make us bleed, don't you, Mudblood? You wanna spill some pure blood? You just want to get the chance to see what real pure blood looks like, huh? Closest you'll ever come to having any of it…"

Eftan ground his teeth together, but said nothing.

"Or can you even do magic? Can you do magic, Muggle?"

"You don't want me to prove that," said Eftan slowly.

"Oh, don't I?" said Pierce, finally raising his own wand. "I'll give you the first shot, Mudblood… what've you got to lose? You shouldn't have to worry about spilling blood, yours is worthless anyway… Come on, you useless dog spawn. Let's see what you've got!"

"_Cruci—_"

Pierce jumped back, startled, and was about to shout something to counter it when Eftan stopped the incantation right before finishing.

"Gotcha," said Eftan, smirking.

"Cheeky prat," said Pierce, sneering. "You wouldn't have been able to pull it off even if you wanted. Bugger off, Mudblood. No one will ever actually like you. At best, you'll only ever be a pet to the better wizards."

And Pierce and company left.

Albus had been expecting the memory to end there, or at least move on; Eftan had shown him the awful time that he'd been having at school. But Eftan stood in place, still holding his wand, and the memory wasn't breaking down.

About fifteen seconds passed, and then Eftan lowered his wand. He looked down at the ground, and a small spider crawled past his foot. Eftan glared, and then directed his wand at the spider.

"_Crucio!_"

Albus started; the spider began writhing on the floor, twitching, wracked with spasms, and then it collapsed as Eftan drew his wand back.

There was something strange in Eftan's eyes. They were slightly unfocused but serious. Something angry danced in them. Something dark was behind them.

"What's so hard about pulling that off?" muttered Eftan, observing his wand, a sly little smile eking onto his face.

And the memory broke away.

In flew the pieces of a puzzle to form the next memory: This was more recent. This was in their sixth year, because Red Pierce was sitting next to Eftan in the Slytherin common room and he was wearing his Head Boy badge. Albus would guess it was the beginning of the year… He was about to see whether Pierce had really changed.

"Ross and I had a little chat about you," said Pierce. "He said you'd been staying at the Malfoys' over the past two summers… Mind if I ask why?"

"Yes, I mind," said Eftan stiffly. "What the hell is wrong with you? Trying to find more ways to torture me? I'm not telling you about my past, thank you very much. That would be giving you ammo."

"I apologize for all of that," said Pierce. "I really do. I'm being more honest than I've ever been in my life… That was really, really wrong of me to—"

"Cut the crap," said Eftan.

"I'm being honest—"

"Even if you are, I want you to cut the crap and cut to the chase," said Eftan. "You still wouldn't be talking to me if you didn't want something."

"I heard you weren't actually a Muggle-born."

Eftan looked up at Pierce. If he knew at this point that this was a true statement, he wasn't letting it show; his poker face was impeccable.

"And who the hell suggested _that?_" he scoffed.

"Darren," said Pierce, "but he heard it from Samka, who heard it from Quinn, who heard it from Malfoy. Things tend to get screwed up that far down the grapevine… but not things like this. Is it true?"

Eftan rolled his eyes and started to get up.

"No, no, stop, I understand," said Pierce. "I understand you hate your Muggle parents. You hate everyone, really, it's not hard to see. You just want to be left alone. You went with the Malfoys simply because you knew they would leave you alone. You study alone, you eat alone, you sit alone, everything you do is alone."

"What is your bloody point?" growled Eftan.

"Really, all your problems stem from Muggles, if you look at it," said Pierce. "If it weren't for Muggles, you wouldn't have had to do so much catching up after growing up away from the wizarding world—you wouldn't be at such a disadvantage. If it weren't for Muggles, you'd never have been bullied at school for being perceived as a Muggle-born. If it weren't for Muggles, you'd never have been bullied at home for being a wizard in a Muggle community. And if it weren't for Muggles… the world would be so much calmer and safer, and easier… no second-class citizens that the rest of us have to carry on our shoulders. The Muggles want everything from the wizards, you know."

"You're still not at the point," said Eftan pointedly.

"I'm getting there," said Pierce. "Believe me, I am. Your parents, now… They were very poor, I believe? Why is there poverty? Muggles are horrible at managing their end of the world. There's poverty in the wizarding world too, but it's much rarer… we can usually do something about it, unless you're a Weasley with eighteen kids. What I'm trying to say is, why did you have to put up with poverty? There's no reason for it anymore. In today's society—"

"What the hell is your point?!" snapped Eftan. "That we kill all the Muggles or something?"

"Actually," said Pierce calmly, "yes."

Eftan snapped his mouth shut.

"That's precisely what I'm suggesting," said Pierce. "I've also noticed you practicing the Cruciatus Curse. You're quite good. I decided to extend the invitation to you when I saw you finally pick up _Avada Kedavra._ That was impressive. Seriously, seriously impressive."

Eftan looked around the common room, feigning ignorance, but clearly checking to make sure no one was here to listen in on this conversation.

"Not many kids can do that, so kudos," said Pierce. "But you're extremely talented in general, and I want to see if you'd like to join me on a mission granted to us by the greatest wizard who ever lived."

"And who might that be?" asked Eftan.

"No one knows his name," said Pierce, "but he calls himself 'The Man in the Shadows.'"

Eftan raised an eyebrow.

"I want you to take a few days to think about what the world would be like if we finally got rid of the parasites that are Muggles," said Pierce. "If that sounds like a world you'd like to live in… then I have a job offer for you."

Eftan furrowed his brow. "I don't…"

"I know this is an awkward question, considering that you were raised by Muggles," said Pierce. "But do you really consider them parents? Just think about it for me, okay?"

Eftan squinted at Pierce, like he wasn't really sure this was being asked of him.

"Talk to you soon," said Pierce, and he got up; the memory dissipated again.

Pierce was back again in the next memory. Albus watched carefully, his heart beating out of control.

"So you're in," said Pierce, and Eftan nodded.

_No,_ thought Albus, his heart sinking. _What the hell is going on—why would Eftan agree to this, why wouldn't he tell anyone—why is he telling _me,_ then, and why now?_

"Then I've got an incredibly important job for you to do," said Pierce. "You've got to be able to cast the Fidelius Charm. Do you think you can do it?"

"I could handle it eventually, yes," said Eftan. "It might take a few weeks…"

"Considering that most people need decades to learn it, that's fine by me," said Pierce. "You've been studying advanced magic for quite some time, though, haven't you?"

"Yes," said Eftan. "I don't understand what use people have with _friends…_ they slow you down. I don't have anyone whom I'm forced to entertain or console, so I've been able to get years ahead."

"Friends generally are useless unless you can exploit them," agreed Pierce. "What can you do, exactly? I mean, your biggest accomplishments?"

"A lot of advanced spellwork," said Eftan. "I've been studying up on Fidelius Charm theory for a while but I haven't gotten around to it yet… I can, though, perform a flawless Disillusionment Charm, subjugate anyone with the Imperius, pull off Shatterbolt and Frostflame, command Fiendfyre…"

"You can control Fiendfyre?" asked Pierce, awestruck. "Fantastic…"

"And much more," said Eftan, smirking again.

"But you've been toning it down in class to avoid notice," said Pierce.

"Right," said Eftan. "I'd rather pretend I'm not all that good so that I don't draw notice for my abilities…"

"Well, I've noticed, and I have faith in you," said Pierce. "Just let me know when you think you can pull off the Fidelius. All right?"

"I'll let you know as soon as I can," said Eftan.

"Thank you," said Pierce. "I need to at least start this project… Then I can pass it on to you when I leave Hogwarts. The Man in the Shadows has promised my family everything we deserve if I can do this for him… and you'll get what you deserve, too."

"I deserve to be left alone," said Eftan, twisting his lips.

"You'll get it," said Pierce.

That quick memory dissolved, and now Albus was standing in what appeared to be the Slytherin common room—silver and green decorations were in abundance, and there was cool green light filtering in from under the lake.

"The Man in the Shadows has an important mission for us," said Pierce to a group of sixth and seventh year students. "Throughout this year, we're going to be working on a machine that can change the world." He grinned widely. "When we complete this machine, the Man in the Shadows will supply its power source—the blood of wizards. And when we turn it on, every last Muggle in the world—will die. Instantly."

Albus tried to stay calm—there was no way something like that could be real. The Slytherins were being played… the machine they were building was going to do something else. looked around the room. Sylvester was the only Slytherin sixth year he noticed was absent. There could have been others, but Sylvester's absence was most noticeable, considering he was Muggle-born. Albus didn't think Sylvester would have been dead by this point, considering that this looked to be the first that the Slytherins had heard of this. So it seemed that they had just made sure Sylvester wasn't around.

"Our leader has named it the Shadow's Engine," said Pierce. "He has appointed an Engineer, who will oversee our operations. We will build it in the castle catacombs, where Dismiusa used to be. Piece by piece, we will build it, and then piece by piece, we will assemble it. It will take at least half a year, even if we all contribute. But we can do it! Why wouldn't we wait to finally cleanse the world of its unclean, subhuman population? The time for wizards to break free of their burden has finally arrived!"

"And I wouldn't suggest attempting to rat on us to anyone else," said Eftan, smiling wider than Albus had seen him smile in a long time. "I've cast the Fidelius Charm on everything you're hearing. Only Red and I are the Secret-Keepers… the rest of you will never be able to tell anyone."

_So that's how Eftan can tell me,_ thought Albus in a blur. _But that still doesn't answer WHY he would do it after all this… Was he pretending to be on Pierce's side the whole time to gain his trust?_

"Some of you may be wondering where Sylvester is," said Pierce. "The answer is that we felt he might have a conflict of interest in our endeavors… his family being Muggles will cloud his judgment and he won't realize that this is all for… the greater good."

"We'll be telling him shortly, too," said Eftan, "so don't you worry."

"We're going to see how he reacts," said Pierce. "And we don't suspect he'll understand our cause. So we're going to use him as a bit of a… demonstration."

"If he wants to be a Dumbledore," said Eftan, "and if he wants to play the good guy and refuse what's for the greater good like Dumbledore did…"

"Then he's going to find out what happens to the Dumbledores," continued Pierce, tilting his head and licking his lips.

"He's going to go where the Dumbledores go," added Eftan, chuckling.

"Off the peak of the Astronomy Tower," finished Pierce.

There was silence.

"Do we make ourselves clear?" asked Eftan and Pierce together.

The Slytherins nodded as one. But there was something about them… They seemed dead inside. Albus's acute inclination to mental magic told him that there was definitely some mind-altering going on here. The Slytherins were being brainwashed to some degree… Someone had gotten to them before this.

The door to the common room opened, and Sylvester walked in. Seeing all of the sixth and seventh year Slytherins staring at him, he didn't close the door fully, and he peered at them warily.

"W-what the hell is going on in here?" he stammered, clearly unnerved. "Some sort of town meeting? What is this?"

Pierce snapped his wand up, and the door slammed shut behind Sylvester. He jumped and extended his own wand.

"Is there really even any need to ask?" mused Eftan. "He's not going to agree with us. As you said, there's a conflict of interest."

"True, Eftan, true," said Pierce. "I don't suppose he'd ever see things our way… the correct way."

"What are you talking about?" asked Sylvester, backing up towards the door again.

"We couldn't trust him even if he professed his undying devotion to the greater good," said Pierce. "He would be lying, trying to play us. I think it's best to just… excise the cancer before it spreads?"

Sylvester whipped out both wands and began to shout out spells, locked in duel with Eftan as Pierce looked on, but in a matter of three or four seconds, Eftan had—completely nonverbally—parried all of Sylvester's spells and Disarmed both of his wands, leaving Sylvester defenseless.

"Watch carefully, kids," said Pierce. "This is what happens when you play the Dumbledore."

"_Imperio!_" bellowed Eftan.

The spell hit Sylvester in between the eyes, which unfocused and grew glassy. He reached into his shirt sleeve and took out his pet snake, Razka; he grasped it around the neck and tail and wrapped either end of Razka's body around his hands, and with one swift pull he ripped Razka in half.

"Get to bed, now, Sylvester," said Eftan. "It's late. You wouldn't want to sleep through your last Divination class ever, would you?"

"I would not," replied Sylvester calmly.

"And where will you go from the Divination Tower when class is over?" asked Pierce.

"To the Astronomy Tower," said Sylvester. "To kill myself for the greater good."

"And that's what we like to hear," said Pierce. "Class dismissed."

The sixth and seventh year Slytherins dispersed, and so did the memory.

Albus placed a hand on his forehead, trying to stop it from spinning as another memory was constructed. Was this all Eftan was trying to show him? If the Fidelius Charm was working, he wouldn't be able to tell anyone. Was Eftan just discouraging Albus from continuing to snoop around—by showing him what would happen if he continued to poke around in Slytherin's business?

The next memory was of Eftan walking down a hallway at Hogwarts. Albus looked over, and then walked hurriedly to catch up to him.

"What is wrong with you?!" he shouted, despite knowing that Eftan couldn't hear him. "You just killed a classmate you've known for five and a half years! Maybe you can't see the merits of friendship, but—how could you possibly _do_ that? How could you possibly sign yourself up with Pierce with the end goal of _genocide?_ Why?!"

_What makes a man into a monster?_ thought Albus inwardly, and his eyes began to water.

"Hey, Griffiths," said a voice from around a corner; Pierce appeared again.

"Hi," said Eftan stiffly; apparently he didn't even enjoy the company of people he was murdering with. "What now?"

"Got something to show you," said Pierce.

"What, a new part?" said Eftan, following Pierce into a small classroom. "New materials come in? What did the Engineer say?"

The door closed, and Eftan suddenly realized something was off.

Eftan's wands were out in a flash, and he was pummeling the imposter disguised as Pierce with spell after spell. But the more Albus watched the duel, the more he was convinced that this imposter was not IMW. It had to be someone new—Eftan was clearly outdueling his opponent, and there was no way IMW would lose a duel against one other person. In addition, this version of Pierce seemed… off, for some reason, like the disguise and voice weren't quite perfect. IMW's disguise would have been indiscernible from the real Pierce. So who was _this?_

Still completely nonverbally, Eftan twirled and thrust and parried and slashed, and suddenly the imposter blasted backwards into the wall, Stunned.

"And just who the fuck do you think you are," hissed Eftan through his teeth.

He walked forward towards the imposter.

A faint beeping caught Albus's attention; a little device on the imposter's arm flashed red, and suddenly he'd thrown a Disarming spell at Eftan. The metal patch on his arm had done something—it had revived him.

Both of Eftan's wands spiraled out of his hands and clattered behind him; Eftan froze for a moment, and then he leapt forward, diving at the imposter.

Albus assumed it was a panicked decision to physically disarm his opponent, but he was wrong—Eftan had been keeping one last trick up his sleeve. His legs flew up in the air and melded together, and his arms retracted into his body; his head and torso shrank, he turned color until he was striped black and white, and his skin sharpened into scales—his feet turned into a fin-like tail—he had become a sea snake. Eftan extended his fangs, flying through the air, ready to bite and kill the imposter with his venom as a last-ditch effort, now that his wands were gone.

The imposter was caught completely off-guard; apparently he hadn't been expecting this. He fired a spell but missed, and Eftan landed on him, sinking his fangs into the imposter's shoulder. The imposter roared with pain and flung Eftan off, then shot another spell; Eftan reverted to his usual form, and a second spell immobilized him.

Suddenly, the imposter was gone, and Eftan sat up, leaping to his feet about a second later. Albus thought he understood—Eftan had no memory of what happened in between when he was incapacitated and when he woke up. He must have blacked out. Since Eftan's consciousness leapt from the knockout right to the awakening, so did his memory.

Albus was just wondering what the imposter had done to Eftan when suddenly Eftan's legs gave out from under him, and he fell onto his knees with what sounded like a painful crash on the stone floor of the classroom.

"Oh, my God," whispered Eftan, and tears started to pour out of his eyes. "Oh… Oh my G—God… Oh my God!"

He leaned forward and vomited; he was shaking and convulsing.

"Sylvester," he choked, staring at the floor. "Oh my God… I… Sylvester… _no!_"

He raised his head and stared at the ceiling next. He ran over to his wands, grabbed them up, and Vanished the vomit on the floor; he ran for the door, and Albus followed closely behind him.

"What were you doing in there?" said a voice behind both Eftan and Albus; they both turned around to see Professor Desulgon standing there. "The train back to King's Cross leaves in half an hour! Are you all packed up yet?"

Eftan didn't answer; he turned and sprinted in the direction of the Slytherin dormitories. Albus tried to keep up with him, but physical exertion in the memory was real for the viewer, and he could only run as fast as he could in the overworld. Eftan was quicker than he looked.

Eftan skidded to a stop in front of a stone wall along the dungeons.

"_Darkriver!_" he said, and the passage appeared.

Albus followed Eftan into the common room, remembering the word from somewhere—not the Darkriver Devoctrix, was it? The spell theorized by the Darkriver Trinities—the one that was said to be able to…

…kill all Muggles?

Eftan ran into his dormitory and came out with his trunk. He sifted through his belongings for a moment, and pulled out Sylvester's mirror; he cleaned the dust off of it and stared into it. He reached into his bag and pulled out the other one—he'd apparently stolen Sylvester's version of the mirror when Sylvester had been killed. Then he growled in frustration, put the mirrors back in his bags, and took his wands out again. He Conjured a vial with one wand—the very same vial that Albus had used to pour Eftan's memories into the Pensieve—and he placed the other wand against his temple and drew out a long strand of memories. The memory stopped right there, presumably because the memories of what happened after extracting the memory hadn't been created yet. But one more memory was constructed before Albus's eyes—and although it was last in the sequence, it was from second year or so, judging by how young Eftan and Sylvester looked. Maybe even first year.

"My aunt gave my family these mirrors," said Sylvester, holding up the two mirrors. "Adelina Nelson?"

"Yeah, I know her," said Eftan, sounding bored.

"These are really cool," said Sylvester. "If one of us says the name of the person currently holding the mirror—that person will appear in the mirror and we can talk to each other across any distance!"

"That is pretty cool," said Eftan appreciatively.

Sylvester handed Eftan one of the mirrors.

"I want you to have it," he said, grinning.

"What? Me?" Eftan was shocked. "I mean—why…?"

"Because we're friends," said Sylvester. "And friends have always got each other's backs! If you need something, just give me a shout, okay? And if I'm there, I'll pick up, and we can talk about it. If you need something, I'm there."

Eftan stared at the mirror, looking at his own reflection. He nodded.

And then Albus was soaring back out of the Pensieve.

He had no idea what kind of magic the imposter could possibly have used on Eftan, but whatever it was, it made Eftan realize the error of his ways. At least there was some guardian angel looking out for them… That was a new mystery, but if it hadn't been for this person, Albus still wouldn't have any clue what was going on. Now he knew almost everything. And it was terrifying.

He burst from the Pensieve and tumbled into his parents' bedroom; he opened his eyes, and his breath hitched in his lungs.

Alana and Harry were in his parents' bedroom, staring at Albus in shock after his dramatic entrance, looking like stags caught in a car's headlights.

Harry only had one pant leg in, and Alana was holding a shirt up to her chest.

They were in the middle of either getting dressed or getting _undressed._

* * *

**_Again, I'll try to upload the next chapter ASAP because I know that's not a kind cliffhanger._**

**_I think a lot of people are getting the title now, which is exciting! The first word is now complete, since B was correctly guessed with 7 votes followed by O with 4 and N with 3. Now let's see what we've got:_**

**_Albus Potter and the ABYSSAL _._.R._.E.__**

**_You've got this, now bring it home! I would put a list of letters guessed, except you guys haven't guessed any wrong yet, so you can just look at the letters that are currently in the title to avoid repeat guesses._**

**_I'll finish Q&As (as I've promised like five hundred times) and going through my incredibly backlogged PMs soon, but I'll work on the next chapter before that to make up for my absence._**


	10. Through the Spying Glass

_**Well, I have 28 private messages to sort through, so that might take a while. Again, my sincerest apologies for not having been ahead in my writing so that I could keep uploading. I'll do my best, but you'll have to respect what my best is, even if it's not ideal. Most of you have been very kind but a select few very profane guest reviewers (reviews have since been deleted) haven't been quite as understanding. Yes, it is neglectful on my part to have broken a promise of uploading schedules. But this story will get done eventually and I know you all wouldn't want it to come out rushed and half-hearted. Now, for the vast majority of you, don't worry; I'm not affected by the negativity of the tiny minority. There are bigger things I have to worry about; I'm not at all bothered by people who think I'm literally the worst assemblage of atoms the world has ever known, simply because my life shitstormed too hard for me to get the chapter done in time.**_

_**Still dealing with some shit but I'll do my best to get another one done this week. If I can't, I don't really care if you hate me, but don't post your bile in the reviews. Take a step back from your computer, take a deep breath and realize there are more important things in life than anonymous harassment of a stressed online author. You won't care five seconds after writing it and I won't care five seconds after reading it; it's really just not worth the time for either of us, is it?**_

* * *

CHAPTER TEN

THROUGH THE SPYING GLASS

O

"HOW COULD YOU?!" Albus screamed at the top of his lungs.

Harry pushed Alana aside and stepped towards his son; Alana cast a quick soundproofing charm at the door. Tears were streaming down Albus's face. "HOW COULD YOU DO THIS? HOW COULD YOU LIE TO HER AND—AND—AND CHEAT ON HER—HOW COULD YOU DO THIS?"

"Albus, calm down," said Harry, bending over slightly and placing a hand on Albus's shoulder. "Please, calm down. No one is being cheated on. I realize this looks compromising, but I promise you that this isn't what it looks like—"

"YOU _PROMISE?_" shouted Albus, throwing off his father's hand. "HOW COULD THIS NOT BE WHAT IT LOOKS LIKE?"

"You don't understand, but I can explain it to you," said Harry. "Please, calm down. There's nothing to be upset about."

"Maybe not for you," snarled Albus. He backed away from the door, and stared his father down. "But I'm sure Mum would disagree if she'd been the one who walked in on this."

"Stop it, Albus—"

"I am going to tell her as soon as I can, unless you tell her first," said Albus, his voice shaking with utter, unbridled fury.

"No, you're not," said Harry sternly. "You're not going to tell her because there is nothing to tell her."

Alana shot Harry a look.

"Then explain all this nothingness to me," spat Albus, "_right now_."

"We were in disguise, using Polyjuice Potion, on a mission that just ended," said Harry, still as calm as ever. "We were wearing different clothing. We were getting back into our regular clothing."

This made Albus pause.

"Albus, honestly, sometimes you let your emotions rush ahead of your brain," said Harry. "Do you really think I would _ever_ cheat on your mother? I love her far more than anything in this world—" He grimaced. "Well, I mean—apart from you kids, of course. I love you all so much. I promise you again. Nothing is happening between me and Alana."

Alana nodded behind Harry.

"I'm really sorry if it looked otherwise," said Alana. "I would never, ever do anything to break your family apart, Albus. I promise, too—nothing's going on."

"Okay," said Albus, in a low voice; his hands were still bunched into fists. "Okay."

"That was terrible timing," laughed Harry. "Really, you should knock the next time, but no harm done…"

"Knock?" asked Albus, puzzled. "I popped out of the Pensieve."

"You know, knocking?" said Harry. "Like, knuckles against the door, hit the door a few times?"

Albus silently understood: their senses had been altered by the Fidelius Charm, and they'd perceived him coming through the door somehow.

"Head down to breakfast, Albus, we'll be out there in a minute," said Alana.

Albus shot her a nasty glare; she recoiled slightly and looked at Harry.

"See you down there soon," said Harry tersely.

Albus understood he was being asked to get out. He turned and slowly walked out the door; feeling fully revolted, he closed it gently behind him.

"Albus?" called Ginny from the kitchen. "Is everything okay?"

Albus didn't answer.

"Albus, breakfast is ready," said Lily. "Come on in!"

Albus begrudgingly walked to the kitchen, where his mother and sister were eyeing him curiously.

His head could not have been spinning faster. The entirety of Eftan's revelation was itching to have some strong consideration, but he had been knocked for such a loop by what had happened when he left the Pensieve that he could barely focus on it. It was strange; he knew that what Eftan showed him was of the absolute utmost importance, but for some reason, he could barely focus on it at all.

Soon after, Alana and Harry came down as well. Alana asked if she might be able to stay for breakfast, and Ginny begrudgingly served her up some French toast. Albus did his best not to glare openly at Alana; if she or Harry had something to say, Albus hoped that one of them would say it.

Not that he expected his father would ever cheat on his mother… but he had seen something that couldn't be explained away so easily. All that Albus could think about was the fact that he'd fetched that rare Thermax blossom for Alana, which she then used in a potion that she said she desperately needed to complete… and he'd noticed in one of the library's books that the Thermax blossom was used often in love potions.

Could Alana really have been drugging his father? Was Harry doing it on purpose? Or was this really a misunderstanding like they had told him?

Albus looked up to see his father scratching his sideburns—a habit he had been perpetuating for years, as long as Albus could remember. But this time, while Harry scratched his sideburns, he was looking pointedly at Alana. Albus shifted his gaze slyly over to her; Alana was staring back at him, and she nodded ever so slightly.

Were they talking in code?

After breakfast concluded, Albus went back up to his room, where he held the mirror and looked deeply into it.

"Eftan," he said quietly.

The mirror did nothing.

"Eftan Griffiths."

There was still no reaction; Albus recalled Sylvester saying in Eftan's memory that the other person had to be holding the mirror for it to work. So he'd have to get lucky and call Eftan's name at the same time Eftan was holding the mirror… or he'd just have to hold it until Eftan called _him._

He lay back on his bed, holding the mirror and stewing in his own thoughts, until he was called down for lunch; then again until he was called down for dinner. He fell asleep clutching the mirror to his chest, and there was no word from Eftan at all.

O

Albus boarded the train, and he stepped into a cabin. It had taken a lot of effort for him to say nothing to his mother about what he had seen, but he had finally decided in the end that he couldn't definitively prove anything. He swallowed his words and left for Hogwarts.

Alana stayed in Albus's compartment with Aidan, Alec, Rose, and Mia; she kept a very close eye on him. She was trying to make her observation subtle, but Albus could tell. He wondered what was going through her head.

Alana was also very tense the whole time, as if she fully expected something to happen on this particular train ride. She and his father had been very tense throughout the whole of the holiday, but that was no surprise: they had everything to fear.

Albus watched her just as much as she watched him. Her arms twitched and she shifted her chest and her position in her seat a lot. She scratched at her arm most of all—it was as if there was something very itchy on her upper arm. Was this something he should have been paying attention to, or was he making mountains out of molehills everywhere he looked?

When the train pulled in, Albus hopped into a carriage; Aidan and Rose jumped in beside him, but as Alec and Mia walked over to attempt to squeeze five in the carriage, Alana leapt in first. Albus didn't know whether this was for his protection or whether Alana was trying to keep him from explaining to his friends what had happened by being around him constantly. Obviously, though, she would have to leave his side soon enough. But Albus didn't know how much he was willing to tell his friends. What if he was wrong? Would he be creating unwarranted hatred towards Alana, or would his friends perhaps think that his father might have been cheating on his mother? Or would they simply not believe him, and tell him that he had an overactive imagination?

At the welcome-back feast, Albus's eyes immediately flew over the length of all the tables to where Eftan sat at the Slytherin table, eating very slowly. Eftan glanced up every so often and scanned the Gryffindor table, but not too often. He needed to keep up his cool façade. But Albus was dying to talk to him—he needed to know what motives were behind the strange—helpful, but very strange—ways that Eftan had been acting recently.

Finally, Eftan locked eyes with Albus, and for a good two seconds. Eftan placed his fork and knife down at the table, waited until no one was paying attention to him, and then flashed nine fingers as casually as possible, jerked his head to the side and made a loop with his fingers, and then returned to his dinner.

Albus looked back down at his own meal, processing this information.

_Nine fingers. Nine… January ninth… or nine o'clock? But it's almost nine o'clock now. Did that head jerk and finger loop mean "tomorrow?" Tomorrow at nine o'clock, I should check the mirror?_

Albus finished his food quickly and left for the dormitories. He snuck out to an empty classroom at nine o'clock just to check the mirror for tonight, but there was no response when he said Eftan's name into the mirror.

O

Eftan did not interact with Albus at all for almost the entirety of Monday. That was understandable, since he didn't want to get caught helping Albus, but Albus would have appreciated at least a bit of a reassurance that tonight at nine o'clock was the time. Diwand Spells would end at eight o'clock and Astronomy started at eleven, so it was likely, but Albus wanted to be sure; he needed to know everything and know it now.

The day crawled by, in stark contrast to the rapidity of the Christmas holiday and the term preceding it. At a quarter to nine, Albus trekked out of the common room and made his way into an empty classroom.

"_Colloportus,_" he said, pointing his wand at the door. The door was sealed, and he was pretty certain it would keep most people out.

Thankfully, he had absolutely nothing to worry about from IMW or any other spies like him. Eftan had used the Fidelius Charm; no one could know anything about what Eftan was going to tell him unless Eftan purposefully directed the information their way. An accident like overhearing a conversation was covered by the Fidelius Charm—they wouldn't be able to hear. Unlike other defensive spells, which IMW had proven time and time again would not slow him down at all, Albus had faith in the Fidelius Charm.

He checked the time impatiently every minute or so.

8:57.

8:58.

"_Eftan Griffiths,_" he breathed at the mirror, but all he did was slightly fog up the glass for a moment.

8:59.

"_Eftan Griffiths,_" he said again.

Still nothing.

9:00.

"_Eftan Griffiths,_" said Albus one more time.

The mirror flickered. A slight flash of light, and then Eftan's face slowly faded into view.

"Eftan," said Albus, smiling.

Eftan nodded at him, but his face was still directed slightly away from Albus, like he was watching the door. "Glad you got the message," he said. "I wanted to talk to you face-to-face. I know that Christmas gift was probably not as complete an explanation as you would have liked—you still don't know everything that's been going on. I know you like to know what's going on."

"I do," said Albus.

"You're sure there's no one else in the room?" asked Eftan, his eyes shifting across the surface of the mirror.

"I'm sure," said Albus, shrugging, "but does it matter?"

"It does," said Eftan. "I may have been able to pull off the Fidelius, but I don't know how well it's worked. It will completely serve its purpose as long as I'm careful—that's how it works—but if I'm too cavalier with the secrets, it could break. Skilled wizards can throw as much caution to the wind as they want with this spell; their confidants could scream it in the middle of Diagon Alley during the back-to-school rush and no one would hear. If _you_ did that, though, the spell could very well break, since I've only just learned it. That's what happened to Swait."

"Is that why I'm the only one you've told so far?" asked Albus.

"Part of the reason," said Eftan. "I definitely can't spread the spell too thin or it could snap, as I've said, so I'm only telling who's absolutely necessary. There's more to it than that, though. You are literally the only person I know whom I can trust. Sylvester may have been another, but…"

Albus nodded. "You don't have to say it."

"I killed him," said Eftan, staring at his feet. He was sitting down somewhere, but it was dark, he had the mirror in one hand and his lit wand in the other; that was the only light. Albus made a note to ask where Eftan was. "I… I still can't believe it. And I can't believe what I'm feeling. I have this urge to fix what's gone wrong, at any cost, even potentially at the cost of my own life…"

"That's called being human," said Albus.

"Then what was I before?" asked Eftan, shaking his head. "I never felt anything like this before. My heart didn't pick up a fraction of a second in pace when I was doing it, when I ordered him to jump. I couldn't have cared less. Now my heart is pounding like never before in my life. I feel like taking the jump myself."

"Don't do that," said Albus quickly. "We need you."

"I know," said Eftan. "That's the only reason I'm not. But I'm going to make things right. We're going to stop the Engineer."

"I don't suppose you know who that is yet," said Albus.

"I don't," said Eftan. "And I don't have any guesses, either. But don't worry about me. I know my duty is to help rid the world of people like who I used to be. I'm the person you should be worrying about the _least,_ really. I can handle myself. And I'm a pretty good actor, because I know exactly what it looks and feels like to have no emotional capacity."

"So what the hell _happened?_" asked Albus. "Did that person disguised as Pierce cast some spell on you to restore your emotions?"

"You can't restore something that was never there," said Eftan. "I never had them. I think the imposter _gave_ me emotions… but how that happened, I may never know."

"We'll find out," said Albus. "We always do."

"Do you?" asked Eftan. "I get the strong feeling that things aren't exactly what they seem. Like Dismiusa. You remember that explosion out in the forest, right? Why would that have happened if Dismiusa was under the castle the whole time? There are a lot of inconsistencies with that whole Dismiusa tale. I don't know if I believe the story that became circulated as fact after the whole affair."

"I don't know what else _could_ have happened," said Albus, "but if there was something else going on, it'd be over now, right? Seeing as she's gone?"

"We'd hope so," said Eftan. "But yes, right after the attack, I woke up with absolutely no difference in my life apart from the sudden presence of some new area in my brain that made me realize exactly what I'd done. I never cared about what happened to other people before, but suddenly, everyone on the planet was connected to me. Any suffering I'd caused, I felt. But you probably know this already. I saw how you felt after the Lunar Massacre. You felt like it was your fault for not telling anyone that the festival was going to happen, didn't you? I tried my best to understand, but I just couldn't. Yes, it happened, but you and Exo survived; why should you care what had happened, since you were both fine? Who cares about anyone else—would you really have benefited from their survival? I just had to pretend to care back then. Now, I understand. Now I completely understand."

"Amazing," said Albus. "I… I'm really glad it happened, whatever it was."

"I wasn't, at first," said Eftan, shaking his head. "It took a while to fully connect with my emotions. I hated this feeling, having to care about what happened to everyone and knowing I had to do something about it since I was the only one with the power and ability to do so. My life would have been so much easier without this having happened, but I knew I had to just deal with it and do what would get this horrible burden off my newfound conscience. Now, I can't imagine the suffering that would have happened if I hadn't gotten said conscience—and it might still happen, but I'm going to do all I can to minimize it as much as possible."

"Good," said Albus. "I'll help you however I can. So… let's get into it before one of us is interrupted. The Shadow's Engine?"

"It's a legendary device," said Eftan. "It's been postulated before in history. Particularly the Darkriver Trinity Church. They called it the Darkriver Catalyst, but we gave it a different name to avoid suspicions arising from any parties involved."

"Are there more people involved?"

"Reportedly the Sandbloods are involved," said Eftan.

Albus raised a brow. "Why would the Sandbloods be involved? Why would they support killing all _Muggles?_ That's precisely the opposite of—"

"I know," interrupted Eftan. "They've been told that the machine is going to wipe out all _wizards._ But the Darkriver Catalyst only goes one way. I'm not sure how it's powered, or how it operates at all—we're just putting it together."

"Why Hogwarts?" asked Albus. "Isn't that dangerous for you guys, to be doing this around Wilcox and a good number of Aurors and, well, me? Don't they worry about being discovered?"

"Magic like _this_ is very hard to keep concealed," said Eftan. "It rarely goes unnoticed. But when it's being done at Hogwarts… the magical aura of the school is so strong that it conceals any magical evidence. It's like pissing in the ocean, basically."

"Lovely metaphor," said Albus, "but I get the picture."

"I'll tell you more about it as I know it," said Eftan, "but actually, I asked you for 9:00 because at 9:08, Pierce is coming here. I want you to listen through the mirror. I won't be holding it, but it'll be in my pocket; as long as I'm making contact with it, you'll still be able to hear me… and him, since I'm allowing you."

"You want me to spy on your conversation?" asked Albus.

"Yes," said Eftan. "You'll get the best sense of what we're dealing with by hearing it directly from us, and not just what I remember from the conversation."

"Why 9:08?" asked Albus.

"You see someone heading somewhere at 8:55, you might suspect they're heading to meet someone at nine o'clock. You see someone heading somewhere at 9:03, that's more likely to just be random wanderings."

"I suppose," said Albus. "I'll have to remember that one…"

"Please do," said Eftan. "I did nine o'clock exactly this time because it would have been kind of difficult to communicate '8:52' or something across the Great Hall… Anyway, Pierce will be here any moment now, so I'm gonna stop talking. But stay on the mirror. Don't make any noise, or Pierce could hear it. If anyone walks into the room on your end, just immediately stuff the mirror in a robe pocket—after you cut off contact from your skin directly, it will disconnect from my mirror. If one of us disconnects for any reason, I can just fill you in later. Don't take any risks. Remember that my life is on the line—and I'm your only contact, your only way of finding out anything else about what's going on. If I die, the secret will still be kept by Pierce, so the Fidelius Charm won't go away."

"So if you get killed, I'll kill Pierce," said Albus, grinding his teeth together.

"I wouldn't recommend that," said Eftan. "The Man in the Shadows could be watching at any—he's here."

Eftan placed the mirror in his back pocket, with the handle touching his back. Albus hoped the conversation wouldn't be cut off at any point by the shifting of his body; he settled in to listen.

"You got here early," said Pierce. "I hope you didn't draw suspicions…"

"It would have been more suspicious if I'd walked to Dismiusa's old chamber only minutes before you did the same," said Eftan.

_So that's where he is,_ thought Albus.

"Good thinking," said Pierce. "So. I'm going to give you a post-holiday rundown of what I discussed with the Man in the Shadows over break."

"You _met_ with him?" said Eftan.

"I did. He spent Christmas day at my house, in disguise as my cousin. It was such an honor."

"You might be the only person we know who has ever met with him," said Eftan. "Why did he want to see you?"

"He wanted to inform me of the next stage of the plan," said Pierce.

"Which is…?"

"We've got to start sneaking in the power supply," said Pierce. "If we want to do a field test before the year is over, we need to bring in the power source. We'll do it by mail—pretend it's perfume. The Man in the Shadows has assured me that he can disguise it well enough that Madam Duopold, who oversees the mail, will not look twice at it."

"What kind of power supply are we talking about here," asked Eftan, "that we are disguising as perfume?"

"That's all I know," said Pierce. "We just have to put it in the room with the machine. The Engineer will take care of the rest when he comes to use the machine."

"He's coming here?"

"Once or twice, to check on our progress, before our field test," said Pierce.

"And how are we field-testing it?" asked Eftan.

"You are asking a lot of questions today," said Pierce. "I don't have all the answers for you, unfortunately. You'll just have to trust me, as I am trusting the Engineer and the Man in the Shadows."

"And I will," said Eftan. "I was simply asking in case you knew."

Eftan's voice had returned to its monotonous quality from before his infusion of empathy; his acting seemed superb, at least from the sounds.

"The machine is coming along very well," said Pierce. "As you know, we're already ahead of schedule and it was only a handful of days before the holiday that I got the rest of Slytherin working on it. It was quite the hassle when I was doing it myself."

"As long as we follow the instructions left to us, there's no reason we can't get it to the point of performing its intended function," said Eftan. "The hassle will be worth it when the entire world becomes freer upon the death of the Muggles."

"If only it did the same for Mudbloods," said Pierce. "Assuming, of course, that you aren't one."

"I don't believe I am," said Eftan. "I don't think the Sorting Hat would have said what it did unless I wasn't. It told me I may find something interesting about my heritage later in my life… and it wants me to come back when I do."

"Go back to the hat?" asked Pierce. "When you find out something about your heritage?"

"I still haven't found that out, and I doubt I will," said Eftan, shrugging.

"Well, the Man in the Shadows may have solved that mystery for you, because that's exactly why I brought it up," said Pierce, and his voice gave Albus the impression that he was smirking. "He mentioned you and a little theory he had about your origin story…"

"What?" asked Eftan. "Really? He actually took the time to consider my parentage?"

"He did," said Pierce, "because it interested him greatly. It interested me greatly, too. Your birthday, Eftan?"

"January second," said Eftan. "Two thousand and six. So…"

"Well, first off, happy belated birthday," said Pierce. "And more importantly… Isn't that about… oh, say, nine months or so after Adelina Nelson's little vanishing act in the middle of the Dark Revival?"

"Come again…?"

"Nelson disappeared for over a month," said Pierce. "Didn't you learn about this? One of the Devine sisters accused her of misconduct. She was reportedly fraternizing with Ingot. They were meeting in secret, before Nelson joined the Aurors, and Nelson escaped being captured by Death Eaters at one point because Ingot simply let her go free. When that happened, one of the Devines thought it was suspicious, and an arrest warrant was issued for Nelson."

"I didn't hear about _this_ in Current Events," said Eftan.

"They tend to skate over the sticky stuff in the history of heroes," said Pierce. "All I'm saying is what the Man in the Shadows was saying: that Nelson disappeared because of accusations that she was very, very strangely close to Ingot… and nine months after she came back from her leave of absence, give or take a few weeks… _you_ were born."

"You think I'm… _Adelina Nelson's_ child?"

"Not just hers," said Pierce. "There's got to be a father too, right? Now, if it had been anyone else, I don't know why Nelson wouldn't have just kept the child… Why else would she drop you off with the Griffiths family the day after you were born? Yes, you were given to them at the ripe age of one day, on January third, or so says the Man in the Shadows—but I trust him, of course."

"You think my father is…"

"Gallen Ingot?" said Pierce. "I think it's more than likely."

"You think my parents are Adelina Nelson and Gallen Ingot."

There was a slight pause in the conversation; Albus worried that they had been cut off if the mirror was no longer in contact with Eftan's skin, but then Pierce spoke again.

"If your father was _Ingot…_ well, that would explain your delightfully carefree attitude towards murder. I don't know if that's just a coincidence, but hey, it's the best idea we've got, eh? Nelson knew Faustulus Earle pretty well at Hogwarts—they were actually fairly good friends—and Mr. Earle was the one who delivered you to your parents and told them what you were, which is quite against protocol… and Nelson's family knew a family who knew the Griffiths. This may sound like a conspiracy theory, but at least you've got a theory now!"

"If my father was Gallen Ingot… wouldn't I have inherited his eyes?" asked Eftan. "Mia inherited Dismiusa's… but that's right, she lost them when Dismiusa died, so…"

"So you would have lost your dual-colored eyes when Ingot was killed," said Pierce. "No matter—you can finish his work."

"I'd be honored to," said Eftan.

"We can talk more about that later, I should be back to my rounds soon to avoid rousing suspicions," said Pierce. "Just one other thing… The Man in the Shadows has warned us to be wary of Potter. Albus Potter might be slightly onto us."

"The Fidelius Charm is strong enough to keep him at bay," said Eftan. "I wouldn't worry."

"I would," said Pierce. "The Potters always find ways to interfere. I wouldn't put it past him to spy on us, or stumble across the machine somehow, or something. The Man in the Shadows wants to put together a Potter-proof plan; we'll need your eyes on him."

"Can do," said Eftan.

"Though the Man in the Shadows is thinking of a way to get Potter _out_ of the way," said Pierce, "and he thinks he's hit upon a good plan to stop Potter's meddling for good—without even aggressively confronting him. And it starts tonight."

"Oh?" said Eftan, his voice still not betraying him at all; Albus could only hope the same about his face. "And that would be…?"

"Again, he didn't say," said Pierce. "Have at your shift, then—get as much done as you can without putting it together too hurriedly. If you need anything, let me know."

"Thanks," said Eftan. "I won't be talking to the Sorting Hat about those candidates for my parents, though… I don't want him looking in my head and seeing something that he shouldn't see. Even though he couldn't tell Wilcox, we still don't want to spread the Fidelius Charm too thin. It's only my first real attempt."

"Noted," said Pierce. "Have a good night."

"Good night."

Pierce left and closed the door; shortly after, there were muffled footsteps, and Eftan took the mirror back out.

"Well, it was less descriptive than I'd hoped, but I think you heard enough to keep your brain going for a while," he said.

"More than enough," agreed Albus. "I don't like the sounds of that plan they have to keep me out of this…"

"At least he said it would be done without actually confronting you," said Eftan. "That at least is good news… I mean, I feel as though the Man in the Shadows could kill anyone he wants at any time at this point, but maybe IMW is keeping an eye on you."

"He said goodbye to me," said Albus, shrugging. "If IMW is actually gone, no one's attacked me yet…"

They were quiet for a moment.

"Hey," said Albus. "Does Pierce know you're an Animagus?"

"No," said Eftan. "You're the only one I trusted with that information. I studied and succeeded all on my own… I started first year and got it down fourth year, but that memory you saw was the only time I've actually had to use it for any—"

"Do you think you could give me some pointers sometime?" asked Albus. "Lucas is a great teacher, but it might be a good idea to draw wisdom from more than one source, in case your advice makes more sense to mine than Lucas's…"

"You're trying to become an Animagus, too?" asked Eftan, smiling slightly. "I should have known… Who else knows?"

"Besides Lucas, only you now," said Albus.

"Well, we'll both keep each other's secrets for sure," said Eftan. "I could definitely give you some pointers. I think that's a really good idea for you. You're going to need a high-scale defensive strategy like that. Think it'll be a coyote like your Patronus?"

"I hope so," said Albus. "It's a sturdy enough animal. I could make good use out of becoming a coyote."

"Well, good luck," said Eftan, "but I'm going to go—I have to do my share of work on assembling the machine, otherwise it'll raise suspicions… we've got to be extremely careful about this. Which is another reason I ask that you don't go around telling _anyone,_ even though they can't hear you. Anyone else I've told would be able to overhear you or catch on to you if you let anything slip. Then they'd know that either Pierce or I told you on purpose, and then I'm dead, probably followed by you."

"I'll be careful," said Albus.

"And I'll let you know if I find anything else out about the plan to keep you away from our plans," said Eftan. "Good night, Albus."

"Good night, Eftan," said Albus.

He put the mirror away, just as there was a knock on the door to his classroom.

"Albus?" called a girl's voice. "Are you in there? Who were you talking to?"

"Er—just reciting textbook stuff, trying to memorize the years of all the Centaur Trials for History of Magic," called Albus back. "Who's at the door?"

"It's Linda Bakten!" called the girl.

_Linda?_ asked Albus inwardly, confused.

"_Alohomora,_" came her voice, and the door swung open, revealing a tall, raven-haired girl with shimmering dark eyes.

Albus's eyes unfocused for a moment, and he felt a sharp pain in his head—then he refocused and he smiled widely. "Linda!" he said, suddenly remembering that she was one of his best friends and that he'd known her for years. "Hi! How're you?"

"You aren't in here coming up with more conspiracy theories about Slytherin, are you?" asked Linda. "You need to cut that out. It's getting unhealthy."

"You're right," said Albus immediately. "I should definitely stop."

"You shouldn't think about Slytherin anymore," said Linda. "At all."

"You're right," said Albus again, robotically. "I won't."

"Good," said Linda, and her eyes glinted.

* * *

_**I didn't count with exactitude this time, but after a scan of the reviews, looks like the letter "O" won. Which makes:**_

_**Albus Potter and the ABYSSAL _.O.R._.E._**_

_**Looks like a lot of people got it, based on the second most popular letter, so all that's left is the finish line, basically. Congratulations! I can't wait for you to see the chapter titles ;)**_


	11. Calm Before the Storm

_**Things are looking up for me, or at least on a slightly higher incline. Sorry about the sporadic updates, but honestly it's been sort of back to weekly updates-ish, and you guys used to love those! XD I've spoiled you rotten.**_

_**Again, I'll try to work through my 33 backlogged PMs soon, and I'll try to get another chapter done by next weekend (it's gonna be a long chapter though so it might take a little longer because I want to put more general exposition than I've had in the past couple).**_

* * *

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CALM BEFORE THE STORM

O

Albus watched through Gimmick's eyes again as the cat stepped through the tapestry behind which Alana had been creating her potion. But there was nothing there—not even the crystal barrier that used to seal it away. Either Alana had relocated her potion before the holidays just in case someone was onto her, or she had finished it and used it. He thought back to his suspicions about the Thermax blossom he'd given her—the flower that was often used in love potions—and about when he had stumbled in on his father and Alana undressing… Could she really have been brewing an ultimate love potion this whole time?

Gimmick emerged looking as disappointed as Albus. The cat rubbed up against Albus's leg, and Albus scratched behind Gimmick's ears for a while before he left the area with the tapestry and walked in a random direction.

He grumbled and glanced at the watch he'd gotten from Uncle Ron and Aunt Hermione for Christmas. It was only just past ten o'clock at night. Still over a half hour until Eftan said he would be contacting Albus next. After their last class of the week, Eftan had passed close to Albus and whispered _Ten forty._ Albus kept his mirror in contact with his body in case Eftan needed to contact him sooner.

His conversation with Linda kept nagging at him, telling him there was nothing to be had from pursuing the Slytherins… nevertheless, he felt obliged to keep in contact with Eftan for all Eftan was risking. But what was he supposed to do until ten forty? It wasn't like a lengthy distraction was just going to manifest itself right in front of him.

He looked up to see Wilcox walking in his direction.

"Albus!" said Wilcox. "I was hoping I'd run into you soon. Would you mind… coming up to my office and having a chat with me?"

"Oh—er, sure," said Albus, happy for the distraction that had indeed manifested itself directly in front of him. "What about?"

"About Exo," said Wilcox quietly, looking around. "But come on—let's get all the way upstairs before I get into that."

"Of course, sir," said Albus, and they headed up to the Headmaster's office.

Wilcox sat at his desk, looking harried. He scratched behind his neck and sighed.

"I don't know what's gotten into my boy," said Wilcox. "But he's not himself. At all. Have you noticed?"

"I have, Professor," said Albus. "And I think I might know what it's about, too…"

"What? You do?"

Wilcox looked surprised for Albus to have had an answer so readily.

"I think it's because of Rose," said Albus. "She and Aidan have struck up a relationship together, but… I think Exo has really liked her for a while. She just… didn't notice that, I guess… or she was more interested in Aidan all along."

Wilcox's gaze softened. "Is that all?" he asked, but not unkindly.

"I think it's just the worst offense of many," said Albus, feeling guilty. "See, Exo has been a really close friend of mine for a long time, but… I think he's seeing himself as a bit… overshadowed, maybe. He thinks we've forgotten about him… We really haven't, and he's overreacting a bit, but I think he's feeling…"

"Ron-Weasley-esque?" offered Wilcox.

"What?"

"Well, your Uncle Ron had some similar trouble with his friend group," said Wilcox. "They both entered a friend group with some very intelligent people who have quite a large portion of the spotlight focused on them—through no fault of their own, really, don't get me wrong. I'm not saying anything against you or Rose or Aidan or any of your friends… but it can be a little difficult to keep up sometimes."

Albus shrugged. "I think it's… a _little_ bit different," he said. "Exo thinks we're purposefully forgetting about him, and ignoring him because we don't like him."

"He thinks that?" said Wilcox, folding his fingers. "Any particular reason?"

"He thinks we don't like him for being a werewolf," said Albus.

Wilcox heaved a sigh so heavy that it nearly shook the room.

"This again," said Wilcox. "I don't hold anything against him for being so caught up in it, though… it's not an easy thing with which to come to terms. As a child, it was very easy for him to convince himself that maybe there could be a cure out there. There is so much unknown in the life of children that they feel it's appropriate to project that uncertainty onto the world—the world must be as uncertain as they are. It's the same reason it's so hard for young children to understand that no magic can raise the dead. He held onto the hope that there was some magic out there that could cure werewolves. And he held onto it for a very long time. It was hard for him to leave that, and I know he's still bitter about it. But I didn't think it would be affecting him this much, this much later." He sighed again. "Thank you for telling me, Albus. I'll see if I can talk to him."

"He probably won't want to be talked to," noted Albus.

"He never does," said Wilcox, smiling. "Believe me, I've lived with him for a good length of time now."

Albus grinned.

Wilcox drummed his fingers. "Thankfully, though, someone is coming to Hogwarts tonight who might be able to help him!" He smiled. "Someone you might—"

"Albus?"

The voice came softly from Albus's robes. Albus jumped in his chair and his eyes widened. Wilcox blinked.

"What was _that?_" he asked.

Eftan had contacted him sooner—_much_ sooner—than Albus had been expecting. Albus leapt to his feet and spoke loudly.

"Good talking to you, Professor Wilcox," he said. "I just remembered—I have to go. I'll see you—I'll see you around!"

"Where do you have to go at a quarter after ten at night?" asked Wilcox, twisting his brows over half-lidded eyes.

"Er—told someone I would meet them," said Albus. "I—okay, bye!"

He hurried out of the office.

He ran down the spiral stone staircase, itching to get to an empty classroom to talk to Eftan. He held the mirror in contact with his skin to keep Eftan there; Eftan was fully aware of the situation and was keeping silent.

He ground to a halt just past the gargoyle. Linda was hanging around just outside Wilcox's office.

"Where're you going?" she asked sweetly.

"Er—"

His head jolted backwards in pain again for just a moment. He had an intense urge to tell her exactly where he was going, everything that he was doing, and more. But his pact with Eftan prevented him. He couldn't let the Fidelius Charm weaken by giving the information away at a whim, even if she wouldn't hear him…

"Meeting Alec to talk about—some stuff," said Albus.

"Ooh, what kind of stuff?" asked Linda, tilting her head.

Her croon was hard to resist. He felt the words almost roll right off his tongue, but he held them back and fired out the first thing that came to his mind.

"Quantum Qualicy stuff," said Albus. "You know, that idea that Alec had that Gideon Fracas stole last year?"

"I remember," said Linda, her eyes twinkling. "Mind if I join you?"

"Er—actually, yes, I mind," said Albus, though nearly everything in his head was telling him to tell her the truth. "See, he's really nervous about people knowing what he's up to, because of how Fracas stole his work…"

"That's too bad," said Linda. "But you know me so well! We've been the best of friends since first year. What's wrong with me? You don't think _I'd_ do anything to harm any of you, do you?"

"No, I don't think that," said Albus. "But if I invite you, I'd have to invite a lot of people… I shouldn't have even told you why I was out."

"Hey, Albus," said a voice rounding a corner, and Albus looked over to see Gad Frasier, the Ravenclaw prefect, walking over. "Who're you talking to?"

Albus turned back, but there was nobody there.

Who _had_ he been talking to? He couldn't remember…

"Myself, I guess," said Albus.

"Oh, neat," said Gad. "You know, I really hate patrolling the castle… but I guess I gotta keep up my responsibilities if I'm going to be Head Boy someday, eh?"

"Er—"

"Oh, right, you probably want to be Head Boy, too," said Gad. "Well, you'll have to fight me for it! You and Aidan. I don't suppose Eftan would be in the running… he's a bit of a square, and way too anti-social to take on a responsibility like that. I'm surprised they made him a prefect with all his weirdness, but then again, _none_ of the Slytherins recently have been very social either, or is that just me? Sorry, am I talking too—"

"I gotta go," said Albus awkwardly, and he half-jogged off to an empty corridor. He ducked inside a dusty old empty classroom when he was sure no one was watching, soundproofed the room, took out the Marauder's Map to keep in front of him to make sure he knew if someone was coming, and he took out the mirror. He couldn't see Eftan in it.

"Eftan?"

Eftan's voice answered even though Albus couldn't see him. "Yeah?"

"Geez, sorry about that," said Albus. "That took a while—but what the heck were you doing calling me now, anyway? You're nearly a half hour early!"

"No I'm not!" argued Eftan. "I said ten fourteen!"

"Oh, shoot," said Albus, laughing in spite of the near misses. "I heard ten forty."

"Ah," said Eftan. "I'll try not to pick anything ambiguous-sounding next time… I'll stick with twelves and such. Sorry about the miscommunication."

"That's okay," said Albus. "I don't think any damage was done."

"Okay, and I have to ask," said Eftan. "Who the _fuck_ were you talking to right after you left Wilcox's office?"

Albus was slightly taken aback. "I—you mean Gad?"

"No, you idiot, I know who Gad is," said Eftan. "And remind me to hex him in the back later. I'm talking about the _girl_ you talked to. I've never heard her voice before in my life but you sounded like you knew her and she said she's been 'best friends' with you since first year. Now, I know I hadn't spoken to you in a while, but I _think_ I'd remember that."

"I… I have no idea who you're talking about," said Albus. "Are you sure I talked to anyone between Wilcox and Gad? Besides myself?"

"Albus, are you stupid or _playing_ stupid?" asked Eftan. "I don't have time for this, I really don't—"

"I have no idea who you're talking about!" protested Albus.

"Oh," said Eftan. "Oh, _shit…_"

"What?!"

"That must be the 'plan,'" said Eftan. "To keep you at bay. Their plan… I don't know who that is, Albus, but that's not your friend. Shit, I wish Pierce had told me about this… but maybe he didn't know the specifics, either…"

"I'm so confused," said Albus.

"She must have been doing some sort of crazy mind magic on you," said Eftan. "Albus, listen to me—you've got to be extremely careful. That girl you just talked to… You think you know her, but she's not who she says she is, whoever she is."

"I don't remember this at all," said Albus. "Did she wipe my memory or something?"

"That seems to be the only explanation," said Eftan. "This isn't good… I'm guessing she's also trying to mentally coerce you into telling her what you're up to, based on the questions she was asking. Be as cautious as you can. When that girl comes up to you and you feel like you want to start telling her things… If you start talking with someone you think you know, and you have a sudden urge to tell her more than… Okay, this is really difficult to explain…"

"And to comprehend," said Albus. "You're telling me that someone I think I know is… not who I think they are?"

"I think she's altering your memory before and after she leaves," said Eftan. "This isn't good. If she forces you to say something about me, she might actually be able to _hear_ you, because if she's a minion of the Man in the Shadows, then she could be in on the Fidelius Charm's secret… and then I'd be dead."

"I won't say anything," said Albus. "I'll resist. I'll touch up on my Occlumency more, I guess… But how will I know it's her? If what you're saying is true, then any time she approaches me, I won't remember that I don't know her…"

"Any time you talk to one of your female friends," said Eftan, "try and recall how you met; what was the best, worst, or most important thing that happened between you two; and when was the last time you saw her. If you can't remember those, she's not really your friend."

"This is even more terrifying than when IMW was going around impersonating my friends," said Albus, shivering.

"If you're up to the challenge," said Eftan, "you could try to set up a trap for her. Have some sort of alert system between you and your friends, and next time she approaches you, get Aidan and Rose and Alec to ambush her or something. Be careful though. You don't want to give them reason to do anything more drastic than what they're already doing."

"I'll just try to shut her out of my head," said Albus. "I don't want to get into any more trouble. As long as they think they've got her keeping me in check, they might not see a reason to attack me. But… if this is really happening, how the hell is she getting past the castle defenses?"

"Probably the same way IMW did," said Eftan. "Albus, I hate to cut you off, but—"

"You need to get back to the Slytherins probably, I know," said Albus. "What did you want to tell me?"

"I wanted to tell you what our meeting today was about, and I want you to listen in," said Eftan. "Albus… The Man in the Shadows is _here._"

Albus felt his stomach Disapparate.

"No," he whispered. "He's… he's _here?_ In the castle? In _Hogwarts?_"

"Pierce has been talking with him in the Slytherin common room for the past few hours," said Eftan. "He's disguised as me and I've been told to lay low in an empty classroom with the Disillusionment Charm on. He's not here to hurt anyone—just to check on the machine's progress, and give us a little… er, motivational speech, I guess. And I'm going to head back to hear it. The Slytherins are going to know it's the Man in the Shadows who's talking to them today. But I don't know if we're going to find out _who_ he is. If we do learn his identity, and if we can use that to our advantage… it might be time to break the Fidelius Charm."

Albus's eyes flashed to the Marauder's Map. He ripped open the flaps and went to the common room of Slytherin. He saw Pierce, sitting in the seventh year dorms as though he were talking with someone, but Pierce seemed to be alone… according to the Map, anyway.

"You'd be hunted down if they knew you broke the Fidelius Charm," said Albus. "You wouldn't stand a chance against them."

His heart rate quickened instantly on remembering what he was up against. Calmly, he used his mental discipline training to attempt to slow it down. The fearful reflex was still there, but he was getting better at controlling it.

"I know," said Eftan. "Or maybe I could Imperius Pierce. But there's still the high possibility they'd find out what I'd done. But if I have to die to get him into custody…"

"We'll try to find another way," said Albus.

"But he probably won't reveal his true identity yet," said Eftan. "I don't think it'll matter."

They sat silently for a few moments. Albus checked the Marauder's Map again… no one nearby, and no one approaching.

"We're going to hear from the Man in the Shadows at half past ten," said Eftan. "That's almost here. I have to get back to the common room. I'll keep you in the loop, but again, if there is even a _remote_ chance of any sound being made on your end… let go of the mirror. The _Man in the Shadows_ is going to be in this room. He runs at least half of everything horrible that has happened to the world in the past who knows how many years. If anything goes wrong today, he's not going to miss it. If he has the slightest suspicions about me, I'm going the way Sylvester went."

"I understand," said Albus. "I'm not going to take any chances at all around him. Don't worry. Go."

"Listen carefully but keep an eye out for anything that could potentially cause a disturbance in your area," said Eftan. "I'd recommend placing the mirror on the floor and keeping a hand on it. Then you could just take your hand away immediately if something's about to make noise, and the connection will go dead. Then you could also keep the Marauder's Map right next to the mirror and you could keep an eye on it."

A thought occurred to Albus. "Wait—Eftan, one question before I go. When you were, er… evil… I guess… Did you tell anyone I had the Marauder's Map?"

"I did," said Eftan quietly. "I warned Pierce about that. Sorry, Albus. We don't have that advantage anymore. Now stay quiet. I've got to get back for the meeting."

Albus nodded, and placed the mirror on the ground, keeping a hand on it. He looked down at the Marauder's Map, and he had to do a double-take.

Wilcox's name was next to the name "Vanessa Varnisse."

Dr. Varnisse was at Hogwarts? But that made sense—Wilcox had been about to say something about someone who was coming to Hogwarts tonight who might be able to help Exo. He wondered how long she'd be staying, and if she was here just for Exo or if there was someone else or some other reason. She was in an unused teacher's office… Maybe she was setting up a little therapy room.

He looked back to the mirror. His heart was skipping about every other beat in terror for Eftan's safety; would the Man in the Shadows know that someone was listening in? Would he be able to trace it to Eftan?

As much as he wanted to hear the Man in the Shadows directly, was it too risky to keep the mirror's connection? Eftan seemed to think so. He wouldn't have suggested it if he thought there would be an issue.

He held his breath as Eftan entered the common room.

"Ah, there you are," came Pierce's voice. "We've been waiting for you."

"You may be confused," said a voice that sounded a lot like Eftan's—but it was too far away to be from Eftan. "Allow me to explain, or at least to explain as much as is necessary at this time. Soon enough, you shall receive all of the answers, but to this point, you need know little more than what is expected of you in this small construction project to which you have been assigned. It would be imprudent for me to reveal too much now, but that does not mean I do not trust you—in fact, you have been given a great responsibility, and I know that you will not disappoint me… for if you do, I will be the last person you ever disappoint."

The voice slowly morphed; it sounded less and less like Eftan as the Man in the Shadows spoke. It grew deeper but also more pronounced, like someone who was used to speaking to large crowds, and a slight gravelly tone emerged, as though he was masking his natural voice.

"My name is not important, but you will all know it in due time," said the Man in the Shadows. "For now, you should remember my alias: I am the Man in the Shadows."

He gave this some time to echo, but Albus was unable to see or hear any reaction from the Slytherins, if there were reactions.

"I am only here to remind you that I am watching," said the Man in the Shadows. "Always. You may not think I have time nor means to watch all of you, but you would be wrong to think so. Whenever you feel most complacent… That is when I am watching most carefully. And I will not tolerate weakness. Once you leave Hogwarts, you will be judged for the work you have completed. If I recall that you have worked diligently and tirelessly for all of the work which has been expected of you, you will quickly find place amongst my ranks. If you slack off or disobey orders even once, even if the job got done in the end, you will not survive the week after you leave these walls. Do not think the fact that you are at Hogwarts can protect you forever. No one is outside of my reach.

"I will be here only for tonight. I will be checking the progress of the machine, and I will administer new orders or remind you of what still needs to be done. I will also remind you how crucial it is that you keep every detail of this endeavor to yourselves—the Fidelius Charm that our own Eftan Griffiths has cast is very impressive, but it could be fragile. It has come to my attention that Dr. Vanessa Varnisse has taken up temporary residence in the castle to provide advanced counseling services to those suffering from trauma regarding the death of Sylvester Alamandrine. Do not go to see her. She is very practiced with mental magic, and we cannot have her seeing anything meant to be kept secret in your minds.

"Remain cautious. Remain on guard. Remain vigilant. But remain subtle. This is the calm before the storm. And what a storm it will be."

The Man in the Shadows stopped talking. Albus saw the mirror shuffle against Eftan's clothing, and then the connection went dead; Eftan had taken his hand off of the mirror, probably to avoid pressing his luck. However much information he had just heard—or not heard, really, considering that the Man in the Shadows had remained as vague as ever—he couldn't help but worry about Eftan. He sincerely hoped that the eavesdropping endeavor had gone unnoticed.

As he stood and picked up the mirror to put it away, the connection suddenly flashed back on—Eftan apparently had broken it off by accident, or realized there was something else he wanted Albus to hear.

"You are one of our most valuable assets, given your prestigious skill and your prime position," said the Man in the Shadows. "Given your familiarity with the Muggle world, I may have a position for you, liaising with the Muggles. And by liaising, of course, I mean placing their top generals and world leaders under the Imperius Curse or the Marionette's Medicine to keep them in check."

"I ask knowing that you may not wish to answer," said Eftan, "but is that already occurring, sir, or is that the next phase of the plan?"

"Every Muggle government in every country of the world has a select few individuals under my direct control," said the Man in the Shadows, "and it has been so for some time. We had to ensure that there would be no nuclear strikes against magical strongholds if the Muggles ever caught wind of any of this, or in case they simply decided we were too dangerous a people in general."

Albus inhaled sharply on this revelation; the dust in the room tickled his nose, but he tried to ignore the feeling.

"I am honored," said Eftan reverently, "to be in the presence of—"

The sneeze happened so quickly that Albus had no time to expect nor suppress it; as the wind exploded out of him, he let go of the mirror as fast as he could. The sound echoed several times through the room as Albus dove to catch the mirror to stop it from shattering; the connection was dead, but had he let it go in time?

He looked at the Marauder's Map. Eftan was standing apparently alone in the Slytherin common room… the Man in the Shadows had pulled an IMW and found a way to stop himself from being seen on the map. But Eftan's dot didn't disappear, nor was he running or ducking and weaving like he might be in a duel… Eventually, Eftan simply walked to Pierce and began chatting with him. It looked like nothing had been noticed.

Albus slumped against the wall, feeling like a jellyfish out of water. These heart-stopping moments weren't going to stop anytime soon, either.

* * *

_**There was actually a tie for first place: F with one vote and V with one vote, because I think most of you have gotten the title by now and didn't feel the need to guess (which is fine!). I'm going with V simply because it's had more votes in the past and I can tell you guys already know for the most part what the second word is! I should probably just finish it now but I want to follow it through all the way to the end, so just tack what you know one of the last two letters is on the end of your review :)**_

_**Albus Potter and the ABYSSAL V.O.R._.E._**_


	12. The Brooch

_**So, I got mono. That about sums it up for the past three weeks. That plus the classwork of this semester is just murder (I'd actually probably choose the mono over the classwork right now). No promises for the uploading of next chapter except that it WILL happen, just like every chapter after that, all the way to the end of the series. I'M SORRY ABOUT NOT RESPONDING TO MESSAGES THOUGH.**_

_**And to those of you who came to my defense in the reviews: Thank you. I don't let the negative reviews bother me, but the positive reviews like yours **_**_always_ _make_**_** a difference. They really make all**__** the difference, actually.**_

* * *

CHAPTER TWELVE

THE BROOCH

O

A soft, misting rain glazed Albus's body as he flew around in search of the Snitch. Hufflepuff wasn't putting up too much of a fight in regards to the Quaffle, but Mia Moon, their Seeker, was absolutely determined to best him; it felt like having a dragon breathing fire down the back of his neck.

"Gryffindor has the Quaffle… again," sighed the Slytherin commentator, Donnie Sescis. "Bell passes to Baxter-Thornton, which by the way is far too long of a last name. I'm just going to call him Baxter. Baxter passes to Bell—Bell back to Baxter, Baxter back to Bell, Bell back to—come on, guys, you're making my job really difficult here… Who's the last one? Right! Leigh, who passes it back to Bell… Lola Irving of Hufflepuff dives and just barely misses snatching that ball away, but Bell chased it down first, which—hey, I guess that's why they call them 'Chasers,' I never—Bell throws to the left goal post, and Foster makes a—OH!"

Albus whirled his head around as gasps and cries echoed throughout the audience. The fifth year Hufflepuff Keeper, Helen Foster, was holding the Quaffle as she fell through the air towards the ground, but it slipped out of her limp hands. Her broom was falling next to her.

Albus turned his broom to go after her, but he caught movement from the teachers' stands out of the corner of his eye. With lightning speed, Professor Wilcox had leapt from his seat and was sliding down the side of the stands like he was a Muggle skateboarder, getting a good line of fire. He cast a charm to arrest her momentum; she slowed and floated gently onto the ground. Albus had to tear his eyes away; he couldn't stop looking for the Snitch, even now. He waited for Donnie's commentary on what had happened.

"Foster made a remarkable diving catch to save that goal, but in the process, she smacked her head right on the goalpost! Foster is down for the count, and it looks like she might not be coming back. Madam Glaslyn is heading out to meet her on the field right now. Looks like they're not moving her and they're treating her right there. The game will go on, she's fine."

But Hufflepuff was forced to play without a Keeper; they couldn't substitute in the middle of the game. Gryffindor scored six more times quickly as the light rain turned to light snow. Helen continued to be treated on the ground, and Donnie kept giving updates as he received them.

"Foster is okay! She's walking off the field by herself, give her a hand, folks! Oh—shoot, Foster fell down again…"

For half a second, Albus looked down to make sure Helen Foster was okay. But after just that half second, Roxanne bellowed, "_LOOK ALIVE, ALBUS!_" and he turned to see Mia racing after the Snitch, away from him. Gryffindor wasn't far enough ahead yet. If Mia caught the Snitch now, Hufflepuff would win.

Albus clenched his teeth and blasted off after her, but her head start was too strong; then the Snitch turned ninety degrees and Mia with it. He sailed into an intercepting path, knowing his better bet was to knock Mia off-course and reset the Snitch's whereabouts to unknown, but before he could reach her, she knocked its wing with a fingernail and dove down to catch it. The Hufflepuff stands exploded with cheers and Mia pumped a fist in the air as she rose back up to Albus's level; making eye contact with him, she stuck her tongue out playfully and started spinning her broom in circles.

"Moon has got the Snitch!" cried Donnie with glee, triumphant in Gryffindor's downfall as a Slytherin. "Gryffindor barely goes down, one hundred and sixty to one hundred and forty!"

Albus ground his teeth in frustration. The time he had taken to make sure someone was okay had cost him the victory…

Mia hadn't held back just because of his sensitivity to an injured student. She knew that she had to focus on the job and not the injuries that she couldn't help. Why couldn't he have just stayed focused on the game?

He hoped that wouldn't turn out to be a metaphor for the looming war, but he knew it probably would. He might have to leave someone behind. Would he be able to do that? Or would he stall for too long like he had just done, leaving the door wide open for his enemies to strike him in his moment of weakness?

He strolled to the locker rooms while Roxanne's reprimands flew in one ear and right out the other. He knew what she was probably yelling, anyway. _Focus on the task in front of you. Don't get distracted like that. Keep your head in the game._

Easier said than done.

O

"And, er, that's… that's the Undulative Property of Human Transfiguration," said Professor Desulgon, looking around the room. "Anyone remember the name of who came up with that? Er, I mean, who figured out what was going on and… gave a name to it? The name who… The guy's name?"

Professor Desulgon was not at his prime.

Still, Lucas raised his hand; seeing that Lucas was the only one with a raised hand, Professor Desulgon called on him again.

"Harvit," said Lucas. "Luke Harvit—one of the greatest American theorists of Transfiguration!"

"Yeah, that's probably why we've heard so much of him… throughout all of… never," yawned Alec, trying to stay awake with every ounce of his effort (which was not very much).

"I vaguely remember maybe seeing the name as I flipped through the textbook at the beginning of the year," whispered Albus as Professor Desulgon started talking again. "Or maybe not. I don't suppose you've opened the textbook yet this year?"

Getting no response, Albus looked over to see Alec asleep on his textbook, which was, of course, still closed. He sighed and pulled out his sketchbook, and started doodling animals as Lucas had told him to continue doing for Animagus practice. As long as he looked up every once in a while and nodded as if he were listening and taking notes, it didn't tend to draw suspicion from a surprisingly distracted Professor Desulgon.

Other than Professor Desulgon, things had been strangely normal lately. Eftan hadn't updated him in a while, but perhaps there was nothing to update about. No one was acting more strangely than usual, and Albus hadn't seen that girl who was apparently messing with his head—or, if he had, he didn't remember the encounter, which was a really frightening assumption.

Professor Desulgon looked very relieved when the class was over. Albus drifted towards Alec, noting that Exo was _still_ maintaining his distance from them—this had gone on for so long that Albus wasn't sure if Exo was ever going to get over it.

"That was one of the worst Transfiguration double periods we've ever had," said Alec bluntly.

"I have to agree with you," said Albus, wondering what was eating at Professor Desulgon so much that he hadn't taught a lesson up to par all year.

"What're you up to after Wandless Magic?" asked Alec.

"Visiting Dr. Varnisse just to say hello," said Albus. "After that, considering I have Arithmancy, Muggle Studies, and CMC exams at the end of this week, probably just… spending the night alone with my study materials."

"You're not going to find much time alone _today,_" murmured Alec with a grin.

"Hey, Albus," said Lacy Leigh, walking past him and wiggling her fingers hello. "Happy Valentine's Day!"

"Hi, Lacy," mumbled Albus.

"So, you're visiting Dr. Varnisse?" said Alec. "Need to talk out some stuff?"

"No, really just saying hi," said Albus. "I haven't talked to her in a while, but she's helped me through some pretty awful times, so I think I owe her a visit considering our previous close relationship. What're _you_ doing for the rest of the day?" He smiled, knowing the answer would have something to do with Mia.

"Actually, I'm going to the library!" said Alec proudly. "I'm going to do more research on some things that I need to know if I'm going to be attempting to discover a method for Quantum Qualicy—you know, my idea of making one wand mimic whatever the other is doing?"

"Yeah, the one that Gideon Fracas stole," said Albus. "I remember, but, you're not doing anything with Mia for Valentine's Day?"

"Nah," said Alec. "Me and Mia are taking some time off."

Albus started. "Wait—really? You can't be serious—"

"It's not a big deal," said Alec. "We're just putting things on hold. She's been way too stressed out lately. She's spent all of her free time on the Quidditch pitch, practicing to beat you. I mean, it paid off on Saturday when she actually did it, but she's still incredibly busy and she wanted to take a while off from the relationship."

"And that's… not a big deal for you?" said Albus. "I mean… you've been together since you were embryos."

"Ha-ha," said Alec. "No, it's not a big deal. We didn't have a fight or anything, she just wanted to take some time completely by herself without feeling an obligation towards me."

"I guess that makes sense," said Albus. "So… you're not afraid that's leading up to anything bigger?

"No," said Alec earnestly. "Mia told me it was only for a little while, and I believe her."

Albus nodded, but inwardly he was worried. If Mia wasn't invested in the relationship anymore, he hoped she would just end it and not lead Alec on. He was the type of person to take everything literally—if she was planning on easing him into a breakup, this wasn't the way to do it. It wouldn't be easy to make him take a hint. Then again, Albus didn't know whether it was Mia accidentally taking advantage of Alec's naivety or whether it was actually what Mia wanted. This sort of thing was well beyond Albus's understanding, but he couldn't imagine that anyone would need a break from somebody that they loved… and if it wasn't love, then why bother? Or was he thinking about this in the completely wrong terms?

The thought of his father undressing with Alana floated back to him; it wouldn't leave his mind, even more than a month later.

No. His father would _never_ take a break from his mother. The way he saw it, either his father was telling the truth with that story about the Polyjuice Potion mission, or Alana had drugged his father with a love potion. He tried to shake the thoughts off, and walked to dinner. He ate without tasting anything and dragged himself to Wandless Magic. This year was draining him now that all of his classes had progressed to the next level of difficulty.

"Albus," said a silky voice behind him.

Albus turned around; his eyes unfocused for a moment, and then refocused to see Linda standing there.

"Oh, hey, Linda!" said Albus. "How're you?"

"Excellent," said Linda. "And how are you?"

"Oh, you know," said Albus. "I'm pulling through."

Eftan's advice drifted back into his mind. Where did he see Linda last? It would probably be a good idea to recall that, even though Linda was one of his best friends, and he knew she wasn't the person they would have been talking about. Heck, he'd run through this exercise even with Rose and Mia, so it was probably good to get into the habit. When had he last seen her? Well, considering she was a Gryffindor, that would have been last class. They were making fun of Professor Desulgon's poor teaching…

…weren't they?

A little spark jumped in the back of his mind. No. Linda had not been there. She wasn't taking N.E.W.T.-level Transfiguration, then.

What _was_ she taking? What was her career path? What was her birthday—her mentor or mentee—her favorite color?

_Who the hell was Linda?_

With all of his self-control, he kept his exact same smile, but with his newfound awareness, he sensed the slight indications that someone was poking around in his head.

"I'm going to be late to Wandless Magic," he said, jabbing a thumb over his shoulder. "I should get going…"

But as soon as he left her sight, he would forget all about her. He froze in place, wearing a smile that he hoped was casual.

"Well, I just wanted to ask you how the Slytherin investigation was going," said Linda. "Which I hoped would actually be 'not going' by now? You _have_ given up those crazy conspiracy theories, yeah?"

He felt something pushing his brain; he pushed back to avoid another brainwashing, but he must have alerted her to his awareness of the situation. Her eyes flashed dangerously, and her hand twitched close to her pocket.

A loud _crack,_ almost like Apparition, sounded over Albus's head. He quickly glanced over his shoulder, worried that Linda might have signaled someone, but there was no one there. He looked back over his shoulder, sensing that it was a distraction—and Linda was gone.

_Shit,_ thought Albus. _If they know I'm onto Linda… they might know they'll have to try something different. And I won't know what's coming; I won't be one step ahead anymore like I have been with Linda._

Footsteps hailed someone else's arrival; Hugo appeared around the corner.

"Hey, Albus!" said Hugo, waving at him. "Have you seen Alexei anywhere?"

"N—no, I haven't," said Albus, shaken. He held up a hand as Hugo was about to keep walking and disappear around the other corner. "Wait—Hugo! Did you see anyone leaving that way?"

"No," said Hugo, looking around. "Why?"

"Well… nothing," said Albus. "It's… not important."

Hugo looked at him funny, but kept walking.

Albus grimaced. This was the first encounter that he'd had with "Linda" that he remembered. She hadn't bothered to try to erase it. That couldn't be a good sign.

It probably meant they were done with Linda. But then, what was their next move?

O

"Okay," said Parker. "Close your eyes."

Albus did so.

"Now, focus on the direction my voice is coming from."

Albus took a deep breath and exhaled. He focused concentrating on where he knew Parker was, but Parker then started pacing around him. He tried to listen in to the sound of Parker's footsteps.

"I'm going to render you temporarily deaf," said Parker. "Don't freak out. I can't do this for very long, because people tend to legitimately lose their minds when they can't hear anything, but it should be long enough for you to get a sense of how very, very clear your mind needs to be in order to learn to read auras."

Albus nodded. "Okay, I'm ready."

"_Aurempt!_" said Parker.

Like a shadow swooping over him and blocking out the light, all sound was swallowed up in an instant. He could hear nothing, and with his eyes closed, he couldn't see; he had absolutely no connection to the outside world other than the feeling of the cool air on his skin, the smell of the unused classroom, and the bare amounts of light that filtered through his eyelids. His heart beat faster against his chest, but it felt foreign.

A few seconds in, he realized he was thinking too much. He tried to clear his head, and focus on the nothingness. But it was difficult, when the "nothingness" was so palpable that he could feel it pressing against him.

Albus opened his eyes and found Parker standing a few feet to his right. "I don't think it's working," he said.

Parker lifted the spell. "What's going on?"

"It's really hard to concentrate without either of my main senses," said Albus. "I just keep remembering the fact that they're gone. I think it's less of a distraction to actually have hearing than it is to noticeably not have hearing for the first time."

"Oh," said Parker. "Okay. Sorry—I haven't taught this before. I'm still not totally sure what's going to work."

"That's okay," said Albus. "I'll just close my eyes, then."

He closed his eyes again, and breathed in and out deeply, trying to concentrate on the magical energy around him. As Parker had been explaining the last couple of weeks, he would be able to sense some sort of disturbance in the energy around him. That disturbance would be a person. But everyone was a unique disturbance—that was how Parker could tell who was around while being blind, even if he couldn't hear them.

Albus focused, channeling as much of his body's energy into his mind.

_Hm._

He jumped. The hum had come from inside his own mind. He slowly settled himself back into his calm state, and started again.

_Hmm… Hmmm…_

Albus opened his eyes again. "Were you humming just now?"

"Humming? No!" Parker grinned. "That must have been my aura! Was it at a constant pitch?"

"Yeah, I think it was," said Albus. "So that was—"

_HMMMMMMMMM._

The humming was growing louder. Albus twitched, and tried to knock it out of his head mentally, then tried to knock it out with his wrist. It was hurting his brain.

"Stay calm," said Parker. "It's all in your mind. That happened to me the first time I read an aura. It's tough to learn how to turn it off, but I know you can do it. Just concentrate."

"Can you turn off my hearing again for a little while?" asked Albus, still bombarded with the buzzing.

"That's not the problem," said Parker. "It's not actually sound. Your mind is interpreting it as sound because you've never experienced this sense before and your body is trying to… well, make _sense_ of it." He stepped back. "But we _can_ stand on opposite sides of the room to diminish the effect while you try and take care of it…"

Albus walked to the other side, as far from Parker as he could get in the room; the humming died down a lot, but it was still there.

"Ow," he mumbled, rubbing his temples.

"Okay, I think it's different for everyone so I don't want to distract you by giving you advice on this," said Parker. "Just do your best to sort your head back out. It's like a sense you never knew you had, and you've just got to turn it back off. Like closing your eyes. Or putting your hands over your ears. Of course, those don't _completely_ end the senses—you can still hear a little bit when you plug your ears, most of the time—but it'll be much dimmer. In the background. And you can access the information any time you notice something happening in that background. You just need practice."

"This is really frustrating," said Albus.

"You gotta take your mind off of it," said Parker. "Like a ringing in your ears. You just gotta do something else until it fades away."

"Like what?"

"Let's just have a chat," suggested Parker. "We haven't talked in a while. How are you?"

"Yeah, we haven't talked in a while," said Albus. "Sorry about that… I've been so busy lately with all my classes."

"Yeah, you're taking an insane amount of work that no one should be able to do without a Time-Turner," said Parker. "But you made time to learn aura-reading?"

"It wasn't really _making_ time, it was just _forcing_ time," said Albus. "I _should_ be doing my Transfiguration essay, but I've realized lately that Professor Desulgon's been grading them really lazily, so I'm kind of bullshitting it."

"Right," said Parker. "I hate when teachers assign essays… They make me come in and give them a speech on the topic instead, because I can't write. But yeah, I've noticed Professor Desulgon's standards dropping too."

"And I recently thought it would be a useful thing for me to know, given my current situation where a lot of really powerful people want to kill me and my family," said Albus. "If somebody impersonates one of my friends, I want to know."

_After that whole Linda affair, I really can't afford to _not_ learn this stuff,_ he thought inwardly.

"You've got a long way to go before you can tell that sort of thing," said Parker. "Besides, people's auras can change on their own, when they start acting differently. Take Exo. He used to be a bunch of different sounds. Recently he's become, like… just a dull grinding sound. It's actually painful for me to sense, and I'm sure it's no better to actually interact with him. You can really tell when someone's in a bad way when you can read their aura."

"Poor Exo," said Albus.

"Is it the werewolf thing that's still bothering him?" asked Parker. "He should join WWWD."

"The what?"

"Witches and Wizards with Disabilities," said Parker. "I'm a full member now that I've turned seventeen. You can apply earlier, though. Remember Aethan Maddox?"

"That name sounds really familiar," said Albus, looking up at the ceiling, trying to remember.

"He was the mute Slytherin kid who was in the seventh years' Dueling Tournament in our first year," said Parker. "He founded the coalition after he graduated here. A lot of good change has come from their efforts to make all schools accessible and give support to people who are struggling with their disabilities. They have werewolves there, as well. That's a pretty severe disability. Lots of counselors who know exactly what Exo is going through."

"I wish I could talk to him to tell him about that," said Albus. "But he doesn't want to talk to me anymore."

"That's really sad," said Parker. "That's a real shame. You guys were such good friends for so long."

"I know," said Albus. "But you're seventeen, Parker? Have you started Apparition lessons?"

"I have," said Parker. "The test is on the day before Easter holidays. The instructor's really great, except she keeps saying to 'visualize' your destination. It's kind of annoying me."

"I can imagine why," said Albus, grinning.

"Has the sound died down for you, then?" asked Parker.

Albus started; he had actually forgotten about it. "Oh! Right. Yeah, it's gone, actually. Completely." He frowned. "Is that bad?"

"No, it's great!" said Parker. "It's faded fully into the background! That means you're already adapting it as just another sense. That's fantastic. Much faster than I did it, and I only had four other senses to prise!"

"Thanks," said Albus, his heart jumping. "I'm going to head out to see Dr. Varnisse now—I said I was going to do that last month, but I sort of forgot and got distracted…"

"For a month?" laughed Parker. "Well, don't keep her waiting any longer! Go on, then. When do you want to pick this up again?"

"Tomorrow!" said Albus. "Tomorrow, that would be great, if you can? I definitely want to master this as soon as possible."

"Well, I won't hold back your ambitions," said Parker. "See you around, perfect little Albus Potter!"

Albus laughed and left the room, headed to Dr. Varnisse's classroom. Nobody had called him that in a while.

He knocked on the door and listened.

Some papers shuffled, and then Dr. Varnisse's voice called, "Come in!"

Albus opened the door and waved hello; Dr. Varnisse looked delighted, and got up from her desk to give him a hug.

"Albus!" said Dr. Varnisse. "I'm so happy to see you! Didn't you say you were coming to see me… a very long time ago?"

"Yes, sorry," said Albus, blushing. "I got… sidetracked on my way to see you, and I've had so little time to myself in the past month."

"Is that something you want to talk about?" asked Dr. Varnisse, folding her fingers.

"Hah, no," laughed Albus, sitting down in the chair across from her desk; she sat back down at her desk and continued organizing papers. "I'm not here for an appointment—just saying hi, and that we really appreciate what you're doing for the school."

"It's a duty I am honored to accept," said Dr. Varnisse. "And thank you; I appreciate your appreciation!"

"Is everyone okay?" asked Albus. "I mean… Sylvester… it was horrible."

"It was absolutely tragic," said Dr. Varnisse, shaking her head. "As for your question, I can't answer—if someone _was_ having trouble, that would be confidential."

"That's understandable."

"But the suicide of a loved one is always difficult," sighed Dr. Varnisse. "So I've had a fair few visitors."

_But it wasn't a suicide,_ thought Albus. _Which makes it even worse—it could happen again, to anyone._

Dr. Varnisse looked at him curiously. "You look like you're thinking to yourself. What are you thinking about?"

"That's… confidential," said Albus, smiling weakly.

Dr. Varnisse smiled. "Oh, Albus," she said. "You know you're doing something wrong when your _therapist_ doesn't know what's going on in your head…"

"How long are you here for?" asked Albus, changing the subject.

"I'm here until Easter holidays," said Dr. Varnisse. "That's not too far off, now, is it?"

"No, just a couple of weeks now," said Albus. "What's happening for you after you move out of Hogwarts?"

"Back to my practice on Diagon Alley," said Dr. Varnisse. "I've got a few clients back at home not too happy about my absence. But they understand why I had to come here."

"You just left everything behind to come help us?" asked Albus.

"I did," said Dr. Varnisse. "But I at least left an open Pensieve and a Benevoline."

"A what?"

"I left a Pensieve out, for people to use if they were having hard times," explained Dr. Varnisse. "And a little sentient wand-like contraption called a Benevoline. It will extract your happiest memories and put them in the Pensieve for you so that you can watch your happiest memories over again. Then, when you're finished, it will put the original copy right back in your head."

"Pensieves are amazing," said Albus. "How many are out there? I get the sense that they're not very common."

"They're not very common at all," said Dr. Varnisse. "I'm actually borrowing your father's for the purpose. I couldn't find another one anywhere. I think there may only be a couple dozen in the world or so—perhaps less."

Albus's head raced through the calculation. Two dozen—twenty-four. Or less?

"Twenty-three?" he asked.

Dr. Varnisse tilted her head. "Twenty-three? Now… why do you say _that?_"

Albus looked her directly in the eyes. Was that extremely idiotic of him to say out loud?

Dr. Varnisse leaned back in her chair. "Is there something interesting about twenty-three? Have you been studying it in Arithmancy?"

"Er—a little," said Albus. "But we study every number in Arithmancy. I just thought I remembered the number from somewhere."

"It sounds familiar to me, too," said Dr. Varnisse. "But I can't place it. Well… it's just a number, though. I'm sure I hear twenty-three often and don't pay much attention to it. Is it a number I should pay attention to?"

"Probably not," said Albus. _Unless you want a bunch of dangerous people paying attention to YOU._

"You have that spaced-out look again," laughed Dr. Varnisse. "What I would give to know what's going on in the mind of Albus Potter…"

"Hey, if you want to pay _me_ for my therapy sessions, I'm all for it," joked Albus.

O

And then, like magic, it was Easter. It came upon everyone so quickly that Albus's entire class was skeptical that the calendar was actually telling the truth.

Albus spent one more aura-reading training session with Parker before the holidays. In just the month he'd been practicing, he had actually gotten remarkably decent with the skill.

"Keep your finger pointed at me," said Parker.

Albus pointed his finger at Parker.

"Close your eyes."

Albus closed his eyes, and heard Parker whisper a spell to muffle the sound of his footsteps. Parker strode around the classroom, but even with his eyes closed, Albus could sense where his friend was. It was harder when more people were around, but Parker seemed incredibly impressed that Albus could even do this.

"I'll say it again, you're phenomenally talented," said Parker. "You can seriously do anything you want. Have you considered looking into becoming an Animagus?"

Albus smiled; he and Lucas had been working even harder than he'd been working with Parker lately. Lucas thought he might be able to finally try out the transformation soon.

"Yeah, I've considered it," said Albus.

"Well, you should definitely try it out," said Parker. "I actually looked into some research about it a while back because I was interested… but all the books people read to me about the process told me to 'visualize' animals… and that, again, is something I'm not so great at."

"That must really be annoying," agreed Albus. "So, you want to head down to dinner?"

"Sounds good to me," said Albus.

As he walked down to the Great Hall with Parker, every person he passed gave him a splash of color or sound in his mind. He was always sensitive to others' auras after the training sessions.

He passed Dinah Bohr—she was silver. He passed Emily Watson—she was a soft sigh. He passed Holly Glissendale—she was cherry-blossom pink, until she caught sight of him and her aura turned volcanic. Albus looked away quickly and was very relieved when he left her range and the feeling of magma on his brain died down.

He walked down to the Great Hall and settled down in his usual spot. Someone had already poured him pumpkin juice, and he took the glass happily.

"I'm so glad we get a break now," said Albus.

"This is the last Easter break we're actually going to be able to _enjoy,_" said Lucas. "Next semester, we'll be cramming for N.E.W.T.s—"

"Don't say that word!" shrieked Rose, clapping her hands over her ears.

Lucas rolled his eyes.

_Oh, get over it, you'll be fine._

Albus jumped—Lucas hadn't moved his lips, but Albus heard his voice.

"Yeah," said Parker, sighing. "Well, I'll enjoy the freedom while I've got it and not worry about what's coming."

Albus was hearing whispers and some shouts from every direction. He was feeling a great deal of auras from all the people nearby, but this was something different. He was hearing thoughts as well. Concerned, he lifted his glass to his lips to take a nervous sip.

_Drink it._

The silent command, directly heard in Albus's mind, did anything but its intention. Like it had burned him, Albus dropped the glass; it shattered on the table and the juice spilled everywhere.

"Albus, gee whiz!" laughed Lucas, jumping away and knocking into Jonah. "I know this break is long overdue, but pull yourself together, man!"

"Holy _shit,_" said Riley.

The juice was dissolving the table. Red smoke was rising from the reaction.

"Oh, my God," whispered Rose. "Albus, if you hadn't done that…"

"It was poisoned?" asked Lucas. "Well. That was… a fortunate accident."

"_Was_ it an accident?" asked Rose. "There's no way that was a coincidence. Albus, you're fantastic at Potions—did you notice?"

"Er—yeah, in a way," said Albus.

Someone had poisoned his drink—but they had done it recently, otherwise they wouldn't have known where he was sitting. And if anyone from a different part of the table had come to randomly pour a drink into Albus's glass, someone would have noticed. It had to have been someone who was currently sitting nearby.

Albus looked directly at Parker.

_Parker._

He formulated the thought in his mind, but he projected it; Parker twitched and banged his knee on the bottom of the table. He quickly worked to swallow the bite of food he was chewing.

_Parker—don't say anything. I want you to—_

_Are you talking to me directly into my mind?_

_Yes._

_Holy cow. That's so boss._

_Great. Now listen, or whatever the equivalent of listening is when… Pay attention. I need you to check everyone for any weird aura. Any abnormality you can found. I think someone sitting here is the poisoner._

Parker slowly chewed his food. Albus looked around to see everyone staring at him. He pushed his chair away from the table as the poison chewed all the way through and dropped to the floor.

"I'm gonna let Professor Wilcox know what just happened," said Rose, pushing her chair away from the table as well; she got up and sped quickly towards Wilcox.

"Her," said Parker loudly.

Rose didn't stop, but everybody looked at Parker.

"Her, what?" asked Riley, but Albus knew.

Albus stood and whipped out his wand, shooting a nonverbal Stunner directly at Rose.

Rose twisted and vanished on the spot; the spell soared through the air and struck Professor Obbin in the forehead, who toppled over his chair.

"Oh my God, Albus, what the hell is the matter with you?!" screamed someone (probably Holly from the context cues) as Wilcox revived Professor Obbin. Albus looked around to make sure the fake Rose hadn't Apparated into the room elsewhere.

"How did she Disapparate?!" cried Lucas. "It's impossible inside Hogwarts!"

"Apparition license tests were happening in here," said Parker. "I passed mine this morning. We were all Disapparating out of the Great Hall. There are more tests this evening—so I guess they must not have turned off Disapparition in here in the interim. You couldn't Apparate into Hogwarts, but clearly you can Disapparate…"

"Whoa," said Riley. "Wilcox looks _pissed._"

Parker turned his head to face Albus, and Albus listened in.

_Good thing you're learning this from me,_ thought Parker.

_That goes without saying,_ replied Albus. _Is the imposter gone?_

_Yes._

Wilcox stormed over to demand an explanation. At the same time, another Rose burst into the Great Hall (whom Parker confirmed was the real one), apologizing for her lateness—apparently she had been in the library under the impression that it was an hour earlier than it actually was. Albus was willing to bet there was a Confunding Charm involved. They explained the situation to Wilcox, and as Wilcox got the teachers to secure the Great Hall and investigate, Albus took a look over at the Slytherin table, scanning it quickly to check a theory he was holding.

Pierce was not sitting with the Slytherins. He wasn't in the Great Hall.

O

"Great news, Gin!" said Harry, walking into the secured basement of the house. "I've been chatting with—oh!"

Harry looked down and noticed Albus and Lily playing chess on the table (Lily was destroying Albus). Albus laughed at the look on his father's face.

"Oh, wow!" said Harry. "I totally forgot you'd be home by now! I've been so entrenched in work lately that I lost track of where the days are… It's great to see you!"

Harry leaned down and hugged his kids tightly; he then gave a cordial nod to Alana, who had escorted the Potter kids home. She had then stayed for added protection, despite Ginny's constant insistence that they were perfectly safe here and that there was no need.

"So, what's the good news?" asked Albus, eager to hear new developments.

"Oh, well…" Harry shrugged. "I can trust you kids. But you can't go telling _anyone_ this, because it could lead to certain very good family friends being targeted. Okay?"

"Okay!" said Lily excitedly. "What is it?"

"We're closer now to finding a cure for the Marionette's Medicine than we've ever been before," said Harry. "A big development happened, and we know there's some sort of, like, plant that doesn't exist, that we need for the cure. So we need someone to breed a plant with these select few properties, and then once we've created that plant, it's the last ingredient we need in a potion to cure the Marionette's Medicine!"

"That's amazing!" said Lily. "So you have a bunch of people working on making that plant and the cure?"

"We do," said Harry, "including Professor Longbottom and a few other people we know. A few Potions experts as well; they provided the consult we so needed. It would be one of the greatest modern achievements in Potions."

Harry looked down at Albus. "And there's _more_ great news," he said, looking Albus in the eyes. "News I think _you'll_ appreciate most of all, Albus…"

"What? Me?" Albus scratched his head. "Er… why?"

"Come on down, Lyn," said Harry, waving his hand.

Lynwood Chinch walked down the steps, carrying a very nondescript box. He waved hello to the Potters and Alana, but he looked to be all business.

"Show 'em," said Harry, smirking.

Albus had been conditioned with fear very strongly lately, and for some reason his paranoia expected something horrible to pop out of the box and kill them all. He was very relieved when it was just a very pretty piece of jewelry with a pin.

"Well… what is it?" asked Lily.

"It's a brooch," said Chinch. "But not just any old brooch."

"A Horcrux," said Harry.

The room fell dead silent.

"Herpo the Foul's?" asked Ginny quietly.

Harry nodded.

"And we're gonna destroy it," he said.


End file.
